I 


PRINCETON,  N.  J. 


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S/^/f. 


BR~1700  .P7313  18BU 
Pressens  e,  Edmond  de,  1824 

1891. 
Contemporary  portraits 


■ 


■     ! 


CONTEMPORARY  PORTRAITS. 


CONTEMPORARY  PORTRAITS: 


THIERS,  STRAUSS  COMPARED  WITH  VOLTAIRE, 

ARNAUD  DE  HARIEGE,  DUPANLOUP, 

ADOLPHE  MONOD,    VINET, 

VERNY,  ROBERTSON. 


/  BY 

E.    DE^PRESSENSE,    D.D., 

Author  of 

jesus  christ;  his  times,  life  and  work,"  "the  early  years  of 
christianity,"  etc. 


TRANSLATED  BY 

ANNIE  HARWOOD  HOLMDEN. 


$frfo  gork: 

A.    I).    F.    RANDOLPH   &    Co., 

900,  BROADWAY. 


MDCCCLXXX. 


UNWIN    BROTHERS,    THE   GRESHAM   PRESS,   CHILWORTH   AND   LONDON. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

THIERS 3 

THE  ANTECEDENTS   OF  THE  VATICAN   COUNCIL       ...  39 

STRAUSS  AND  VOLTAIRE       79 

THE  CULTURKAMPF   IN   GERMANY        103 

ARNAUD   DE   L'ARIEGE            125 

DUPANLOUP,   BISHOP  OF  ORLEANS       1 39 

ADOLPHE  MONOD        149 

ALEXANDRE  VINET           *  233 

VERNY  AND   ROBERTSON       283 


*ff0PERTY  Of 

RECOCT  1880 

THSOLOGICi 

v  *  «"  *  *  v  *  fW  *  *  * 

PREFACE. 


THE  book  now  offered  to  English  readers  is  in 
great  part  a  collection  of  articles  that  have  ap- 
peared at  intervals  in  various  French  journals  and 
reviews. 

The  first  part  of  the  volume  is  devoted  to  subjects 
of  general  interest ;  especially  to  a  study  of  the 
Catholic  crisis,  as  represented  in  some  of  the  most 
eminent  men  of  the  Catholic  Church.  A  careful 
consideration  of  the  facts  advanced  seems  to  me  to 
lead  to  two  conclusions :  first,  that  the  course  pursued 
by  the  Ultramontanes  is  one  fraught  with  danger  to 
our  social  interests  ;  and  secondly,  that  it  is  both  un- 
justifiable and  unwise  to  attempt  to  combat  Ultra- 
montanism  with  its  own  weapons.  It  seemed  to  me 
opportune  to  draw  attention  to  the  testimony  of  a 
competent  German  writer — M.  GefTcken — as  to  the 
inanity  of  the  results  of  the  Prussian  "  Culturkampf," 
though  directed  by  the  first  political  genius  of  the 
age,  and  the  strongest  will  the  world  has  ever  known. 

The  second  part  of  the  book  brings  before  the 
reader  three  eminent  representatives  of  French  Evan- 


viii  PREFACE. 

gelical  Protestantism  and  one  great  English  preacher. 
It  will  be  observed  that  I  have  laid  more  stress  in 
these  papers  on  the  necessity  of  a  theological  refor- 
mation than  on  ecclesiastical  questions,  though  I  am 
fully  alive  to  the  importance  of  the  latter.  It  is  my 
growing  conviction  that  Protestantism  has  greatly 
suffered  of  late  years  from  a  too  exclusive  absorption 
in  questions  of  organisation,  to  the  neglect  of  deeper 
and  more  essential  principles.  In  order  to  regain  its 
hold  of  the  mind  of  the  age,  the  Church  must  come 
back  to  the  study  of  these  fundamental  truths,  in  the 
same  spirit  of  free  inquiry  and  devout  earnestness 
which  characterised  Adolphe  Monod  and  Vinet,  Verny 
and  Robertson. 

E.  DE  PRESSENSE. 
Paris,  November,  1879. 


THIERS. 


THIERS. 

A   BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCH,    DRAWN   FROM   RECENT 
WRITINGS  AND  PERSONAL   RECOLLECTIONS.* 

I. 

IN  182 1  two  young  men  left  their  native  province 
and  came  to  Paris.  They  were  sons  of  Provence, 
that  sunny  land  which  has  given  so  many  eminent 
men  to  France  since  the  days  of  Mirabeau.  They 
had  just  completed  their  law  studies,  and  one  of 
them  had  been  crowned  by  the  Academy  of  Aix, 
for  his  panegyric  on  Vauven argues.  Both,  however, 
were  poor  and  unknown.  The  closest  friendship 
bound  them  together.     They  took  up  their  lodgings 

1  No  complete  biography  has  as  yet  appeared  of  this  great 
French  statesman.  M.  Jules  Simon  has  published  a  graphic 
and  very  remarkable  account  of  his  presidency  under  the  title, 
"  Le  Gouvernement  de  M.  Thiers  ;  "  but  the  history  of  the  prin- 
cipal founder  of  the  French  Republic  is  confounded  with  the 
annals  of  the  parliamentary  history  of  France.  The  speeches 
of  M.  Thiers  from  1831  to  1836  have  been  recently  published 
by  M.  Calmon.  For  the  latter  part  of  his  career  we  draw 
largely  on  our  personal  recollections.  We  are  indebted  also  to 
the  "Souvenirs"  of  M.  Seignior,  in  which  many  conversations 
of  M.  Thiers  have  been  preserved. 


4  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

in  two  adjoining  garrets  in  a  miserable  quarter  of  the 
city,  and  at  once  applied  themselves  to  a  great  lite- 
rary task.  By  a  strange  coincidence,  both  had  chosen 
the  same  subject,  the  history  of  the  French  Revolu- 
tion,— a  subject  of  dramatic  and  thrilling  interest, 
stirring  men's  minds  to  enthusiasm  or  hatred,  and  a 
very  firebrand  of  discord  at  a  period  when  Old  and 
New  France  were  at  desperate  warfare. 

These  two  young  men  both  bore  names  destined  to 
become  illustrious.  They  were  Thiers  and  Mignet. 
Thiers,  born  in  1797,  was  twenty-four  years  of  age. 
The  bond  of  affection  which  united  them  was  most 
close  and  tender,  and  remained  unbroken  through  life. 
Mignet)  c'est  mon  frhe  !  we  once  heard  M.  Thiers 
exclaim.  In  all  the  critical  moments  of  Thiers' 
eventful  career,  especially  in  all  times  of  trial  and 
danger,  Mignet  was  sure  to  be  at  his  side,  supporting 
him  with  a  sympathy  as  manly  as  it  was  tender. 
Neither  of  the  two  had  any  anticipation  in  1821  of 
the  fame  and  fortune  awaiting  them.  Mignet  little 
guessed  that  he  would  be  one  of  the  great  masters  of 
history,  one  of  the  most  widely  read  and  deeply 
respected  of  thoughtful  writers,  and  that,  while  keep- 
ing aloof  from  active  political  life,  in  which  he  never 
sought  preferment,  he  would  exert  an  incomparable 
influence  through  the  world  of  letters.  Still  less  did 
Thiers  anticipate  that  he  would  hold  the  helm  of  his 
country  through  one  of  those  stormy  crises,  in  which 
the  safety  of  a  nation  may  depend  on  a  single  man. 


THIERS.  5 

Thiers  belonged  to  the  petty  bourgeoisie  of  Mar- 
seilles, although  by  his  mother's  side  he  was  related 
to  the  illustrious  poet,  Andre  Chenier,  who  was 
dragged  to  the  scaffold  under  the  Reign  of  Terror  in 
1794,  for  having  defended  true  liberty  against  anarchy 
and  crime.  Thiers  was,  indeed,  a  worthy  representative 
of  those  middle  classes  which  had  played  so  important 
a  part  in  1789,  and  which  were  fully  resolved  not  to 
allow  themselves  to  be  robbed  of  the  liberties  won  by 
their  fathers.  He  belonged,  body  and  soul,  to  the 
Revolution,  and  it  was  for  the  better  defence  of  its 
cause  that  he  began  to  write  its  history.  While 
Mignet,  with  a  restrained  nervous  force  reminding  us 
of  Tacitus,  drew  the  general  picture  of  the  Revolution 
in  bold,  masterly  outlines,  Thiers  described  it  in  a 
full,  detailed  narrative,  remarkable  rather  for  clearness 
than  for  brilliancy.  His  men  and  events  pass  before 
us  under  a  strong  light  rather  than  in  relief,  but  all 
his  descriptions  are  characterised  by  that  air  of  move- 
ment and  life,  which  mere  study  never  produces,  and 
which  is  to  a  literary  work  what  the  quick  pulsing 
blood  is  to  the  human  body.  Finance,  administra- 
tion, the  plan  of  a  campaign,  a  discussion  in  parlia- 
ment, all  become  animated  under  his  pen.  Hence 
every  one  of  the  ten  volumes  of  this  rapid  but  com- 
plete history,  obtained  at  once  an  enormous  circula- 
tion ;  and  the  young  author,  who  had  at  first  sheltered 
his  humble  name  under  that  of  a  well-known  pub- 
lisher, soon  made  himself  known  to  the  public,  and 


6  CONTEMPORA  R  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

was  raised  at  once  to  fame  and  competence.  This 
popularity  was  also  no  doubt  partly  owing  to  the  fact 
that  his  book  appealed  throughout  to  the  passions  of 
the  great  Liberal  public,  which  was  exasperated  by 
the  policy  of  the  clerical  Right,  then  in  power.  The 
sole  aim  of  this  party  was  to  nullify  the  most  positive 
results  of  the  Revolution,  and  their  first  step  was  to 
do  violence  to  it  and  to  belie  it.  It  would  be  absurd 
to  demand  the  calm  and  cool  impartiality  of  a  judge, 
from  the  historian  who  is  touching  on  a  past  so 
recent  and  so  hotly  contested,  and  who  is  himself 
engaged  in  the  same  life  and  death  struggle.  Never- 
theless, the  young  writer  does  really  glorify  only  the 
men  of  1789,  or  the  great  generals  who  defended  the 
soil  of  France  against  the  invader.  The  sanguinary 
demagogy  is  sternly  denounced  by  him,  though  he 
has  been  accused  of  restraining  his  severity  till  the  hour 
of  retribution  and  of  defeat  had  come.  He  has  been 
also  accused  of  fatalism.  This  is  an  exaggeration. 
He  was  uniformly  the  man  of  action  rather  than  of 
theory  ;  and,  while  never  belying  his  liberal  convic- 
tions, he  took  fuller  cognisance  of  circumstances  than 
of  principles.  In  this  respect  he  differs  from  all  the 
great  theorists  of  the  Restoration,  who,  like  Royer 
Collard  and  the  Due  de  Broglie,  attached  the  first  im- 
portance to  theories,  and  were  never  satisfied  till  they 
had  reduced  their  practice  to  the  form  of  maxims. 

Thiers'  energies  were  not  exhausted  by  the  writing 
of  his  great  work.     He  threw  himself  at  the  same 


THIERS.  7 

time,  with  all  his  sparkling  vivacity  and  remarkable 
fluency,  into  the  daily  press.  He  rose  at  once  to 
the  first  rank  among  journalists,  not  only  on  ac- 
count of  his  brilliance  as  a  writer,  but  also  from 
his  aptitude  in  apprehending  and  making  himself 
master  of  all  questions  of  art,  finance,  diplomacy  and 
administration.  He  found  also  an  unfailing  source 
of  inspiration  in  his  sincere  devotion  to  the  Liberal 
cause.  Passion  is  a  great  muse,  especially  when  it  is 
nurtured  in  the  glowing  atmosphere  of  public  opinion, 
when  it  is  in  harmony  with  the  general  spirit  of  a 
period,  and  when  it  has  to  deal  with  blind  and  obsti- 
nate opposition.  From  1823  to  1830,  if  we  except 
the  short  interval  of  the  Martignac  Ministry,  the 
Government  of  France  was  in  the  hands  of  the  party  of 
the  Emigrants,  whose  one  desire  was  to  erase  the  grand 
year  1789  from  the  annals  of  history.  Supported  by 
a  bigoted  clerical  party,  whose  services  it  repaid  by 
most  dangerous  immunities,  the  Government  of  the 
day  was  tending  to  restore  the  fatal  union  between 
the  throne  and  the  altar.  Charles  X.  was  the  true 
king  of  the  Emigration.  As  Royer  Collard  said  in 
1830,  he  always  remained  Count  of  Artois,  of  the  old 
Court  of  Versailles, — a  foolish  fanatic,  capable  of  risk- 
ing everything  for  his  imaginary  divine  right,  but 
incapable  of  sustaining  his  temerity  by  wise  measures. 
To  usurp  absolute  power  in  spite  of  his  oaths  to 
the  contrary,  appeared  to  him  simply  claiming  that 
which  was  his  due,  and  he  looked  to  heaven  for  sue- 


8  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

cess  in  attempts  which  another  must  have  felt  to  be 
criminal,  just  as  the  mystic  folds  his  arms  and  awaits 
the  effect  of  his  prayers.  He  only  needed  to  have  for 
his  minister  a  fanatic  like  the  Prince  de  Polignac,  in 
order  to  bring  the  old  French  monarchy  to  ruin  ; 
especially  as,  in  an  age  of  such  intellectual  fertility  as 
a  nation  but  rarely  enjoys,  all  the  great  minds  of 
France  were  arrayed  against  him. 

No  one  dealt  more  effectual  blows  at  the  counter 
revolution  than  M.  Thiers,  who  had  just  established 
the  National,  a  journal  of  his  own,  in  which  he  car- 
ried on  the  most  brilliant  polemical  campaign  France 
has  ever  witnessed.  Those  who  knew  him  at  that 
time  describe  him  as  exerting  an  irresistible  attrac- 
tion. This  little  man,  with  the  flexible  face,  the  glance 
quick  and  keen  as  lightning,  the  inexhaustible  flow  of 
brilliant  speech,  produced  the  effect  of  one  of  those 
creatures  of  air  and  flame,  to  which  Voltaire  has  been 
likened.  Only  he  was  no  comedian  seeking  to  keep 
the  world  amused  ;  he  was  the  soldier  of  a  great  cause, 
and  patriotism  of  the  truest  type  was  his  ruling 
principle. 

II. 

Thiers  took  a  very  influential  part  in  the  Revolu- 
tion of  1830.  After  joining  in  the  famous  protest  of 
the  journalists  against  the  decrees  of  the  17th  of  July 
which  suspended,  or  rather  violated,  the  charter,  he 
was  made  the  messenger  of  the  Liberal  party  to  the 


THIERS.  9 

Duke  of  Orleans,  inviting  him  to  become  the  substitute 
of  the  king  by  divine  right,  and  to  inaugurate  a  new 
monarchy,  the  monarchical  form  of  government  being 
at  that  time  deemed  better  for  France  than  a  republic. 
From  this  period  Thiers  rose  rapidly  into  prominence. 
He  was  at  once  elected  to  the  Chamber  of  Deputies, 
was  then  made  Secretary  of  State  for  Finance,  and 
afterwards  successively  Minister  of  Commerce,  of  the 
Interior,  and  of  Foreign  Affairs.  During  the  first 
period  of  the  July  dynasty  he  was  the  zealous  de- 
fender of  the  Government  against  all  enemies,  whether 
they  came  from  the  Right,  in  Vendee,  like  the  unfor- 
tunate Duchesse  de  Berry,  who  attempted  to  play  the 
part  of  another  Mary  Stuart  under  very  untoward 
circumstances,  or  whether  they  issued  from  the  haunts 
of  the  secret  societies,  always  rife  with  demagogic 
conspiracies.  Thiers  vigorously  maintained  the  law 
of  the  land.  He  has  been  very  unjustly  reproached 
with  having  carried  repression  to  the  length  of  mas- 
sacre. All  that  he  did  was  to  have  the  barriers  of  the 
insurgents  carried  by  the  bayonet  As  a  practical 
man,  influenced  more  by  facts  than  by  theories,  he 
subordinated  his  Liberal  principles  to  the  exigencies 
of  the  struggle  against  misrule.  After  Fieschi's 
attempt  upon  the  life  of  King  Louis  Philippe,  he 
accepted,  indeed  he  initiated,  severe  legislative  mea- 
sures against  the  press  and  unauthorised  societies. 
When  he  took  the  direction  of  foreign  affairs,  he  made 
strenuous  endeavours  to  secure  for  France  a  more 


io  CONTEMPORARY  PORTRAITS. 

influential  position  than  that  with  which  the  Conser- 
vative party  of  the  time  was  satisfied.  During  his 
first  ministry  he  urged  direct  intervention  in  Spain, 
in  favour  of  constitutional  royalty.  In  1840  he  was 
not  deterred  by  the  prospect  of  a  general  war,  from 
breaking  with  the  Quadruple  Alliance,  for  the  benefit 
of  the  Viceroy  of  Egypt,  whom  he  wished  to  make 
the  supporter  of  French  power  in  the  East. 

This  temerity  cost  him  his  portfolio,  which  he  was 
obliged  to  hand  over  to  his  great  rival  Guizot,  who 
carried  out  with  dazzling  effect  the  policy  of  peace  at 
any  price,  and  of  strict  Conservatism.  This  narrow 
policy  went  so  far  as  to  refuse  the  smallest  reforms, 
especially  in  the  electoral  law,  which  made  the 
government  of  the  country  the  monopoly  of  an  oli- 
garchy of  proprietors,  around  which  surged  on  all 
sides  the  rising  tide  of  democracy.  M.  Thiers  was, 
during  the  whole  of  this  period,  the  recognised  leader 
of  the  Opposition,  steadily  demanding  a  more  liberal 
policy  at  home,  and  a  more  manly  attitude  abroad. 
In  truth,  he  was  the  only  real  Conservative,  for  it  was 
not  possible  for  the  Government  of  Louis  Philippe 
long  to  withstand  the  Liberal  aspirations  of  the  na- 
tion, reinforced  as  they  were  by  the  material  pros- 
perity enjoyed  by  the  country,  or  successfully  to 
oppose  the  movement  of  emancipation  which  was 
going  on  in  neighbouring  lands,  especially  in  Italy. 
La  France  sennuie,  said  Lamartine,  in  one  of  his 
famous  speeches. 


THIERS.  II 

It  was  perilous  for  the  Government  of  July,  1830, 
to  stand  thus  isolated,  fenced  in  by  a  narrow  official- 
ism, while  public  spirit  was  in  a  state  of  agitation  on 
every  hand.  It  was  like  a  tree  whose  roots  no  longer 
reached  the  water,  and  which  withered  as  it  stood. 
At  the  very  first  blow,  therefore,  it  fell  to  the  ground, 
and  the  king  of  the  Revolution  had  to  follow  into 
exile  the  Legitimist  king.  M.  Thiers  had  spent  his 
strength  in  the  tribune,  in  warning  a  blind  power. 
It  has  been  justly  said  that  Louis  Philippe  and  M. 
Guizot  were  both  incapable  of  seeing  an  unwelcome 
truth.  Their  illusions  lasted  to  the  end.  We  have 
heard  M.  Thiers  tell  how  they  came  to  seek  him  in 
the  night  of  the  23rd  February,  the  night  which  pre- 
ceded the  catastrophe.  They  turned  to  him  as  to  the 
only  pilot  who  could  save  the  ship.  When  he  arrived 
at  the  Tuileries,  the  storm  which  was  so  soon  to  burst, 
was  already  muttering.  The  politicians  who  were  to 
bring  him  into  the  presence  of  Louis  Philippe,  received 
him  with  the  entreaty,  "Above  all  things  spare  the 
king !  "  "  Spare  him  ?  "  replied  Thiers,  in  a  tone  of 
keen  impatience  ;  "  he  has  been  spared  too  much 
already.  Let  him  know  all  the  truth  ! "  It  was  too 
late.  M.  Thiers  was  never  unjust  to  King  Louis 
Philippe.  He  often  spoke  of  him,  fully  recognising 
his  merits,  and  his  philanthropy  worthy  of  a  son  of  the 
eighteenth  century;  but  blaming  his  obstinacy  and 
too  lawyerly  subtlety.  He  blamed  him  also  for  having 
always  attempted  to  govern,  when  he  ought  to  have 


1 2  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

been  contented  with  reigning ;  and  for  having  sought 
to  substitute  personal  rule  for  a  thoroughly  parlia- 
mentary administration. 

Odilon  Barrot,  one  of  the  leaders  of  the  Left, 
chosen  at  the  last  moment  on  the  morning  of  the 
24th  of  February,  as  Minister  with  M.  Thiers,  would 
humorously  relate  how,  when  he  wished  to  remon- 
strate from  the  boulevard  with  one  of  the  leaders  of 
the  barricade,  the  man  said  to  him  :  "  Idiot !  don't 
you  see  that  the  king  is  making  game  of  us  and  of  you 
too  ? "  "  And  he  was  right,"  said  Odilon  Barrot. 
M.  Thiers  was  not  so  severe.  He  felt,  however,  that 
Louis  Philippe  had  himself  made  the  abyss  into  which 
his  throne  was  falling.  Yet  Thiers  was  not  at  this 
time  by  any  means  an  extreme  Liberal.  He  would 
have  been  satisfied  with  an  extension  of  the  electoral 
right,  stopping  very  far  short  of  universal  suffrage, 
and  with  a  somewhat  extended  liberty  of  the  press. 
He  was  still  an  ardent  adherent  of  the  system  of  cen- 
tralisation, which  the  Revolution  had  bequeathed  to 
the  Empire,  and  which  the  Empire  had  carried  to  its 
extreme  issues.  "  Europe  envies  us  this,"  he  said. 
To  which  the  Liberals  of  the  De  Tocqneville  school 
replied  :  "  If  that  is  true,  why  does  she  not  adopt 
it  ? " 

Thiers'  admiration  for  Napoleon  I.  is  well  known. 
To  him  he  devoted  his  second  great  historical  work, 
in  which  he  displays,  in  yet  larger  measure  and  ma- 
turity, all  the  eminent  qualities  of  his  earlier  writings 


THIERS.  13 

— clearness,  graphic  power,  lucid  arrangement  and 
exposition  of  military  and  financial  operations.  He 
was  completely  fascinated  by  the  genius  of  the 
most  marvellous  man  of  modern  times.  In  conver- 
sation he  constantly  alluded  to  Napoleon,  but  occa- 
sionally he  could  pronounce  severe  judgment  upon 
him.  It  is  said  that  one  day,  on  one  of  his  journeys, 
wearied  with  the  senseless  raptures  over  Napoleon  I. 
in  which  some  young  man  was  indulging,  thinking 
thus  to  please  M.  Thiers,  he  interrupted  him,  saying : 
"  You  do  not  know,  then,  that  Napoleon  was  a  scoun- 
drel ? "  It  was  a  sally  which  he  would  not  have 
seriously  maintained,  but  it  sufficed  to  prove  that 
he  had  taken  the  moral  measure  of  his  hero.  He 
spoke  of  him  with  severity  in  his  last  volumes,  for  he 
came  to  see  what  disasters  had  been  entailed  upon 
France,  by  this  stupendous  genius  unrestrained  by 
law  or  conscience. 

From  this  time  M.  Thiers  took  his  place  among  the 
leading  orators  of  the  French  tribune.  He  was  not 
at  first  successful.  He  used  to  relate  with  glee  that, 
on  the  point  of  delivering  one  of  his  early  speeches, 
he  was  deeply  agitated.  "  What !  "  said  the  sardonic 
Royer  Collard,  "  you  moved  in  this  way  ?  Just  look 
at  those  heads  yonder ! "  and  he  pointed  him  to  his 
hearers.  It  has  been  wrongly  said  that  M.  Thiers 
attempted  at  first  the  sustained  style  of  the  great 
orator.  This  is  altogether  a  mistake.  From  the  re- 
ports of  his  first  speeches,  which  M.  Calmon  has  just 


i4  CONTEMPORARY  PORTRAITS. 

reprinted,  with  an  exhaustive  commentary,  it  is  evi- 
dent that  M.  Thiers  adopted  at  once  a  style  of  his 
own,  simple,  familiar,  full  of  natural  humour  and 
freshness.  Of  this  style  he  was  a  master,  and  it  was 
without  effort  that  he  afterwards  rose  to  higher 
flights.  His  great  speeches  were  always  inspired  by 
great  themes.  He  never  made  any  attempt  to  be 
great  ;  greatness,  as  it  were,  came  to  him.  He  could 
not  be  compared  to  any  of  his  rivals  in  the  Chamber 
of  Deputies.  He  had  nothing  of  the  rigid  exactness 
and  concentrated  force  of  Guizot,  who  disguised  a 
policy  often  timid  and  paltry  beneath  magnificent 
forms  of  speech.  Berryer,  of  whom  at  the  time  of 
his  first  appearance  Royer  Collard  said,  Ce  n'est  pas 
tin  talent ;  cest  line  ptiissance  ("  this  is  not  one  of 
your  men  of  talent  ;  this  man  is  a  power  "),  made  the 
most  striking  contrast  to  Thiers  by  his  magnificent 
stature,  the  rich  quality  of  his  voice,  his  expressive 
gesture,  and  the  passion  and  brilliancy  of  his 
language.  The  eloquence  of  Lamartine  reminded 
one  of  those  fairies  of  the  fable,  whose  mouths 
dropped  pearls,  while  his  thought  was  none  the  less 
deep  and  full,  and  in  political  matters  he  seemed 
endowed  with  all  but  prophetic  prescience.  Thiers 
laboured  under  many  external  disadvantages ;  his 
height  was  below  the  average  ;  his  gesticulation  rapid 
and  abrupt  ;  his  voice  shrill.  He  gave  no  play  to 
imagination  in  his  speeches,  and  yet  no  one  exercised 
a  stronger  influence  over  a  debate.     He  flooded  it,  as 


THIERS.  15 

it  were,  with  light  by  a  mode  of  statement  which  left 
nothing  undefined  or  obscure,  and  which  brought 
the  driest  details  of  finance  or  administration  within 
the  comprehension  of  all.  The  calm  exposition  ended 
by  kindling  into  a  glow.  Underlying  the  fluent  ver- 
biage was  a  closely  woven  texture  of  reasoning  and 
fact.  The  whole  was  animated  by  what  the  French 
call  esprit.  A  striking  point,  a  well-told  anecdote, 
sustained  the  interest.  And  then  the  life  pulsed 
through  his  speeches  as  through  his  books.  The 
audience  had  no  resistance  to  offer  to  this  orator 
who  placed  himself  on  their  own  level  ;  they  were 
charmed,  fascinated,  carried  away,  often  convinced. 


III. 

The  Republic  of  1848  surpassed  all  M.  Thiers' 
anticipations.  He  was  in  theory  a  Monarchist :  con- 
stitutional royalty  was,  in  his  view,  the  government 
best  adapted  for  a  great  country.  Universal  suffrage 
seemed  to  him  an  extravagance.  It  must  be  admitted 
that  its  sudden  adoption  might  appear  to  the  men  of 
1850  a  leap  in  the  dark.  The  Republic  of  1848  was 
not  like  that  of  1870.  It  had  not  been  preceded  by 
fearful  disasters,  by  the  dismemberment  of  France. 
The  duty  of  rallying  around  it  did  not  appear  so 
imperious  as  it  did  subsequently,  to  all  those  who  put 
their  country  above  their  political  preferences.  We 
believe,  nevertheless,   that  if  M.  Thiers  had  carried 


1 6  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

out  then  the  policy  which  he  did  adopt  afterwards, 
the  shame  and  disaster  of  the  second  Empire  might 
have  been  avoided.  In  the  National  Assembly  of 
1848,  as  in  the  Legislative  Assembly,  he  was  one  of 
the  leaders  of  the  reaction  of  the  Right.  He  helped 
to  secure  the  election  of  Louis  Napoleon  as  President 
of  the  Republic,  without  any  presentiment  of  his 
becoming  the  future  Emperor.  He  imagined  that  he 
would  be  able  to  control  him  by  his  own  superior 
mental  power.  He  did  not  know  that  this  phlegmatic 
believer  in  his  star,  would  be  ready  to  send  him  to 
prison  or  into  exile,  in  order  to  make  himself  master 
of  France,  and  that  the  most  able  parliamentary  dis- 
course would  have  no  more  weight  with  him  than  his 
oath,  in  hindering  him  from  usurpation.  This  was 
the  great  political  mistake  of  Thiers'  life,  into  which 
he  was  led  by  a  patriotic  dread  of  the  perils  of 
socialism.  Associated  for  the  time  with  men  of  the 
Right  in  granting  to  the  Catholic  Church  dangerous 
privileges,  which  he  supposed  to  be  the  only  safe- 
guards for  social  order,  he  helped  to  hand  over, 
in  great  part  public  instruction  to  the  clergy.  He 
thus  became  the  powerful  ally  of  the  Abbe  Dupan- 
loup  (just  about  to  be  made  Bishop  of  Orleans),  who 
was  the  prime  mover  of  the  commission  which  pro- 
duced that  fatal  legislation.  The  future  bishop  little 
dreamed  then  that  he  would  become  one  of  Thiers' 
most  determined  opponents. 

Thiers  was  also  at  this  time  one  of  the  promoters 


THIERS.  17 

of  the  great  change  in  the  electoral  law,  which  was 
almost  equivalent  to  the  suppression  of  universal 
suffrage.  Prince  Napoleon,  who  was  already  medita- 
ting his  coup  d'etat,  strongly  approved  of  this  measure. 
He  laughed  in  his  sleeve — he  who  laughed  but  seldom 
— as  he  thought  how  easily  he  could  get  the  upper 
hand  of  an  Assembly  which  had  lost  credit  with  the 
people.  He  reserved  it  to  himself  to  restore  to  them 
universal  suffrage,  as  a  gift  of  his  joyous  accession. 
Thus,  when  on  the  eve  of  the  crime  of  the  2nd  of 
December,  Thiers,  foreseeing  too  late  what  was  im- 
pending, besought  the  Assembly  to  forget  its  divisions 
for  the  sake  of  imperilled  parliamentary  liberty,  his 
agitated,  impassioned  pleadings  (which  ring  in  my 
ears  to-day)  found  no  echo  from  the  Left ;  and  a  few 
days  later,  when  the  agent  of  police  came  to  seize  him 
in  his  bed,  and  send  him  off  to  the  frontier,  he  learned 
how  dear  it  costs  to  place  confidence  in  men  who  are 
fatalists  about  their  own  fortunes,  and  who  deem 
themselves  entitled,  as  the  fulfillers  of  destiny,  to  wrest 
the  laws  to  their  own  advantage. 


IV. 

During  the  early  years  of  the  Empire,  M.  Thiers 
remained  in  retirement,  and  completed  his  history  of 
the  Consulate  and  of  the  First  Empire.  From  1852 
to  1862  a  leaden  pall  seemed  to  hang  over  France. 
With  a  fettered  press,  a  tribune  almost  voiceless,  or 

3 


1 8  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

at  least  without  an  echo,  since  the  reproduction  in 
full  of  the  legislative  debates  was  forbidden,  public 
opinion  had  no  longer  any  organ.  The  Empire 
strove  to  lull  it  to  sleep  by  encouraging  material 
interests,  and  seeking  to  develop  the  wealth  of  the 
nation,  though  not  without  recourse  to  the  artifices 
familiar  to  speculative  adventurers,  the  condottieri  of 
the  Bourse,  those  great  thieves  who  are  not  incarcer- 
ated simply  because  they  filch  their  millions,  but 
who,  if  they  carried  on  the  same  operations  for  small 
sums,  would  not  escape  judicial  prosecution. 

The  Crimean  war  and  the  war  in  Italy  lent  some 
eclat  to  the  new  regime.  They  were  unavailing,  how- 
ever, to  arrest  the  fatal  consequences  which  must 
necessarily  flow  from  its  principle.  Personal  govern- 
ment, capricious  and  changeable  as  the  will  or  the 
health  of  a  man,  must  needs  share  in  the  weaknesses 
of  the  sovereign.  Napoleon  III.  was  the  most  dan- 
gerous autocrat  who  could  govern  a  great  country. 
Capable  of  a  kind  of  generosity,  he  altogether  ignored 
the  distinction  between  good  and  evil.  It  could  not 
be  said  that  he  was  immoral ;  he  knew  no  morality. 
The  sworn  enemy  of  liberal  institutions,  he  had  kept 
from  his  youth,  as  a  carbonaro,  a  certain  revolutionary 
or  socialist  bent  which  impelled  him  to  flatter  the 
democratic  instinct,  and  to  support  himself  by  the 
masses  against  the  cultivated  classes.  In  this,  how- 
ever, he  was  but  following  the  traditions  of  Caesarism. 
In   his   foreign    policy  he   aimed   only  at   theatrical 


THIERS.  19 

effects  ;  he  wished  to  astonish  the  world,  and  to  con- 
tinue the  Napoleonic  legend,  though  he  could  not 
make  the  slightest  pretension  to  the  genius  of  the 
head  of  his  race.  He  threw  his  heart  only  into  the 
Italian  cause  ;  to  this  he  subordinated  everything  ex- 
cept his  wild  dreams  of  greatness,  which  took  form 
now  in  the  establishment  of  a  great  Catholic  Empire 
in  Mexico,  now  in  the  restoration  of  Poland  by  means 
of  a  Congress,  the  mere  proposal  of  which  made 
Prussia  his  enemy  for  ever. 

These  dreams,  which  cost  very  dear  to  the  country, 
prevented  his  paying  any  attention  to  the  spoliations 
which  were  threatening  Denmark,  and  securing  to 
himself  the  alliance  of  England.  He  thus  took  the 
most  effectual  means  of  clearing  the  way  for  the 
ambitious  schemes  of  Prussia.  He  was  the  very  man 
predestined  to  be  the  miserable  dupe  of  so  skilful  a 
player  as  Bismarck.  The  latter,  after  deluding  Napo- 
leon with  vain  promises,  drove  him  into  such  a  corner 
after  Sadowa,  that  he  might  have  declared  war  upon 
him  at  any  moment,  while  appearing  all  the  while  to 
be  himself  the  offended  party. 

From  i860  it  became  evident  that  it  was  a  terrible 
thing  for  France  to  bear  Caesar  and  his  fortune,  and 
that  the  vessel  of  the  State  might  well  founder  or  go 
to  pieces  under  such  a  load.  Public  opinion  awoke 
under  the  goad  of  apprehension.  M.  Thiers,  who  had 
been  nominated  deputy  for  Paris  in  the  elections  of 
1863,  became  the  leader  of  the  Opposition.     Every 


20  CONTEMPORAR  Y  POR  TRAITS, 

one  of  his  speeches  was  like  the  blow  of  a  heavy  bat- 
tering ram  upon  the  citadel  of  Napoleonic  despotism. 
He  completely  demolished  its   system  of  internal 
policy  by  his  great  speech  on  the  principles  of  true 
liberty;   he  cast  a  pitiless  light  upon   the  confusion 
and  extravagance  of  its  finance,  and  rose  to  an  almost 
prophetic   height,  when    he   attempted    to  show  the 
abyss  into  which  its  foreign  policy  was  dragging  the 
country.     His   eloquence   on   this    occasion,  without 
losing   anything   of  its    clearness   and   homely   sim- 
plicity, assumed   a   new  dignity  and    breadth.     The 
effect  produced  by  him  on  the  public   mind  at  this 
time  was  very  great,  and  he  was  supported  by  such 
orators    as   Jules    Favre,  Jules    Simon,  and    Berryer. 
In  vain  did  the  Empire  rear  itself  like  a  Colossus, 
armed  with  all  the  material  resources  of  the  country ; 
it  tottered  visibly  before  this  handful  of  men,  who  had 
only   right   upon   their   side.     The  words  of  Thiers 
were   but  a  light,  impalpable  breath  upon  the  lips, 
but  before  that  breath  the  giant  faltered.     Never  was 
there   a  clearer  instance  of  the  influence  of  purely 
moral  force. 

On  one  point,  however,  Thiers  had  separated  from 
his  colleagues  in  the  Opposition.  He  supported,  with 
all  his  strength,  the  cause  of  the  temporal  power  of 
the  papacy,  in  the  first  instance,  undoubtedly,  because 
he  knew  that  the  one-time  conspirator  of  the  Papal 
States  (now  Emperor),  was  intensely  opposed  to  it  ; 
and  secondly,  because  the  pontifical  sovereignty  was 


THIERS.  21 

connected  in  his  mind  with  that  concordatory  union 
between  Church  and  State,  which  he  had  extolled  in  his 
history  of  the  Consulate  and  the  Empire.  This  was 
one  of  the  weak  points  of  his  political  theory.  Him- 
self a  believer  in  the  spiritual,  and  very  far  removed 
from  anything  like  irreverence  with  regard  to  religion, 
he  nevertheless  considered  it  primarily,  from  a  social 
point  of  view,  as  an  instrument,  if  not  of  government, 
at  least  of  maintaining  public  peace  and  morality, 
provided  it  was  under  the  control  of  the  civil  power. 
The  Concordat,  concluded  by  Napoleon  I.  with  Pius 
VII.,  seemed  to  him  one  of  the  grandest  acts  of  the 
First  Consul.  And  yet  none  knew  better  than  he, 
that  this  so-called  pacification  had  led  to  the  most 
fierce  and  perilous  conflicts  between  the  two  powers. 

M.  Thiers  never  regarded  the  relations  of  Church 
and  State  in  any  other  than  a  political  light.  One 
day,  in  the  President's  palace  at  Versailles,  we  heard 
him  make  the  following  remark  in  reference  to 
Henry  IV. :  "  Was  there  ever  anything  more  ad- 
mirable than  the  sight  of  this  great  king,  giving  peace 
to  France  by  the  Edict  of  Nantes,  while  himself  turn- 
ing Catholic  ?  And  the  best  of  all  is,  that  while 
turning  Catholic,  he  still  remained  Protestant!" 

It  is  evident  that  Thiers  speaks  of  religion,  or 
rather  of  the  establishment  of  religion  in  modern 
Europe,  much  as  Cicero  might  have  spoken  in  his 
Tusculans.  The  convictions  of  the  individual  were 
lost   sight  of  by  him    in  the   interests  of  the  com- 


22  CONTEMPORA R  Y  FOR  TRA ITS. 

munity.  The  eloquence  and  zeal  which  he  displayed 
in  maintaining  the  cause  of  the  temporal  power 
were  keenly  appreciated  by  Pope  Pius  IX.  M. 
Thiers  used  to  tell  a  very  good  story  which  shows 
that  the  great  Infallible  could  unbend  on  occasion, 
and  that  beneath  the  stole  of  the  ardent  devotee 
there  still  lingered  something  of  the  acute  Italian 
diplomatist. 

"  What  gratitude  do  we  not  owe  to  M.  Thiers,"  he 
said  one  day  to  a  French  visitor,  after  one  of  the 
illustrious  orator's  great  speeches  in  support  of  the 
papal  cause.  "  We  have  only  one  thing  more  to 
wish  for  him — that  he  were  himself  a  believer  in 
Catholic  doctrines.  And  yet,"  he  went  on,  after  a 
short  silence,  "  if  he  had  faith,  he  might  perhaps 
do  me  less  service." 

Thiers  was,  in  truth,  destitute  of  the  Catholic  faith; 
and  he  sometimes  found  his  client  of  Rome  very 
embarrassing.  At  the  time  of  the  affair  of  little 
Mortara,  the  young  Jew,  who  was  stolen  away  from 
his  parents  to  be  baptized  by  force  in  a  Roman 
Convent,  he  said  to  a  vehement  prelate  who  was 
defending  the  crime  in  the  name  of  God  :  "  How  dare 
you  bring  the  name  of  God  into  such  a  scandalous 
affair  ?  If,  in  order  to  be  a  Christian,  it  is  necessary 
to  convert  souls  by  force,  then  God  is  no  Christian, 
for  He  has  not  yet  suppressed  the  Queen  of  England, 
who  is  the  powerful  protector  of  what  you  regard  as 
most  dangerous  heresy." 


THIERS.  23 

M.  Thiers  would  not,  indeed,  have  ventured  from 
the  tribune  of  the  legislative  body,  on  such  open 
criticism  of  one  of  the  maddest  acts  of  the  papacy  in 
modern  times.  He  only  expressed  himself  thus  freely 
in  his  own  salon.  None  but  those  who  heard  him 
there  could  fully  appreciate  the  remarkable  versa- 
tility and  fruitfulness  of  his  mind.  There,  surrounded 
by  reproductions  of  the  masterpieces  of  painting  and 
sculpture,  he  discoursed  on  all  subjects,  from  the 
fine  arts,  of  which  he  was  a  passionate  admirer,  to  the 
most  abstruse  questions  of  home  and  foreign  policy, 
which  he  illumined  by  the  vivid  flashes  of  his  wit. 
In  happy  sallies,  in  tons  motsy  in  piquant  anecdotes, 
he  was  inexhaustible.  Standing  in  the  chimney 
corner,  he  would  go  over  his  recollections,  in  which 
all  the  contemporary  men  of  note  figured  in  turn. 
He  never  assumed  anything ;  his  bonJwmie  was 
charming  and  full  of  kindliness. 

Every  evening  his  salon  was  open  to  all  the 
eminent  men  of  the  country  and  of  the  age.  It  was 
a  great  European  rendezvous.  The  most  distinguished 
members  of  the  corps  diplomatique  deemed  it  an 
honour  to  resort  there  frequently.  At  midnight, 
when  the  circle  had  drawn  closer,  the  old  man  still 
dazzled  his  intimate  friends  by  the  brilliancy  of  his 
conversation.  This  salon  of  Place  St.  Georges  was 
a  veritable  political  power  under  the  Empire. 

We  all  know  what  supreme  efforts  M.  Thiers  put 
forth,  from  love  of   his    country,  to  save  the  Empire 


24  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

from  its  last  fatal  error.  The  war  against  Prussia 
seemed  to  him  from  the  first,  the  most  criminal  folly. 
Those  who  were  present  at  the  famous  session  of 
July  15th,  1870,  will  never  forget  the  spectacle  of  the 
great  citizen  exhausting  himself  in  opposition  to  a 
furious  Assembly,  in  the  attempt  to  save  his  country 
from  a  mad  act,  the  disastrous  issues  of  which  he  too 
clearly  foresaw.  Railed  at  by  the  band  of  Bona- 
partists,  who  tried  to  stifle  his  voice  in  their  passion- 
ate eagerness  for  this  war,  since  their  only  hope  was 
to  drown  reviving  liberty  in  blood,  he  fought  to  the 
end.  One  of  his  friends  found  him,  when  the  sitting 
was  over,  bathed  in  tears.  He  had  obeyed  the 
dictates  of  the  purest  patriotism.  He  knew,  more- 
over, more  than  he  could  tell.  Two  days  later  he 
avowed,  in  a  circle  of  intimate  friends,  his  certain 
knowledge  that  the  military  preparations  of  France 
were  inadequate  to  the  struggle.  When  the  first 
disasters  followed  one  another  with  the  rapidity  of 
lightning,  the  Empress  herself  felt  constrained  to 
have  recourse  to  him  to  save  the  nation  in  distress. 
It  was  too  late.  He  tried,  however,  after  Sedan,  to 
get  the  Government  of  National  Defence  nominated 
by  the  Legislative  body,  so  that  it  might  not  appear 
revolutionary.  Two  days  after  the  movement  of  the 
4th  of  September,  he  complained  bitterly  of  the 
vacillation  of  that  middle  party,  which  in  the  follow- 
ing years  was  to  do  so  much  mischief  to  France  by 
its   indecision    and    intrigues.      Immediately   on   the 


THIERS.  25 

accession  of  the  new  power  which  had  swept  away 
the  Empire,  M.  Thiers  accepted  unhesitatingly  the 
painful  mission  of  seeking  an  alliance  for  his  unhappy 
country.  Nothing  could  be  more  disheartening  than 
his  unavailing  quest  throughout  Europe  ;  but  nothing 
reflects  more  honour  on  his  memory. 


V. 

We  shall  pass  briefly  over  the  latter  part  of  the  life  N 
of  the  great  citizen,  for  it  is  fresh  in  the  recollection  of 
all.  We  shall  confine  ourselves  chiefly  to  that  which 
is  least  generally  known.  Brilliant  as  had  been  the 
career  of  M.  Thiers  hitherto  as  an  orator  and  a  states- 
man, it  now  assumed  a  new  element  of  greatness. 
Nominated  to  the  National  Assembly  by  twenty-three 
Departments,  he  was  designated  by  France  herself  to 
guide  her  destinies  in  her  hour  of  supreme  peril. 
Whatever  might  be  the  divisions  of  the  National  As- 
sembly on  questions  of  government,  all  must  yield  to 
the  exigencies  of  public  safety.  The  situation  was  a 
terrible  one.  A  third  of  the  country  was  desolated 
by  the  horrors  of  a  most  cruel  invasion.  An  army 
of  three  hundred  thousand  men  was  held  captive  in 
Germany  ;  another  army  was  scattered  over  Switzer- 
land. The  army  of  the  National  Defence,  which  had 
saved  the  honour  of  the  country  by  its  resistance, 
was  disorganised.  Peace  with  the  foreigner  must  be 
treated  for  with  the  knife  to  the   throat ;  while   at 


26  CONTEMPORAR  Y  POR  TRAITS. 

home  the  spirit  of  faction  was  muttering  threaten- 
ingly, especially  in  Paris  itself,  the  working  population 
of  which  had  been  completely  unhinged  by  their 
brave  endurance  of  five  months  of  siege.  The  name 
of  M.  Thiers  was  forced  upon  the  Parliament.  His 
first  task  was  to  conclude  peace  with  an  enemy  of 
unbounded  resources,  who  knew  to  what  a  condition 
unhappy  France  was  reduced.  It  was,  indeed,  as  we 
have  heard  M.  Thiers  relate,  a  time  of  terrible 
struggle,  in  which  he  tried  to  contest  with  Germany 
the  possession  of  a  strip  of  frontier,  and,  among 
other  places,  of  that  town  of  Belfort,  without  which  the 
country  would  have  been  left  open,  and  incapable  of 
defending  itself  against  the  most  formidable  aggres- 
sions. It  was  a  drama  of  history.  Bismarck  appeared 
at  first  inexorable.  In  order  the  better  to  defend  him- 
self against  the  patriotic  determination  of  M.  Thiers, 
he  called  in  the  Prussian  staff,  with  its  illustrious 
chief,  Von  Moltke,  and  finally  the  king  himself. 
There  was  one  moment  when  M.  Thiers  declared 
that  he  should  withdraw,  and  that  he  preferred  even 
the  most  desperate  struggle  to  a  treaty  which  left  the 
sword  of  Germany  in  the  side  of  France.  He  suc- 
ceeded, however,  in  saving  Belfort,  and  signed  with 
bitter  mortification  the  treaty  for  that  mutilation  of 
his  country  which  he  had  done  all  in  his  power  to 
avert  by  his  resistance  to  the  most  insane  of  wars. 

Strangely   enough,   the    two    combatants    in    this 
very  unequal  diplomatic  contest,  judged  each  other 


THIERS.  27 

favourably.  M.  Thiers  appreciated  in  M.  Bismarck 
the  political  artist,  so  to  speak.  He  admired  his 
genius,  the  abrupt  simplicity  of  his  language,  his  only 
tactics  being  an  almost  cynical  frankness.  Bismarck 
had  too  much  perception  not  to  enjoy  the  most 
remarkable  talker  of  his  time.  It  is  said  that  at 
their  first  interview  at  Versailles,  in  discussing  the 
preliminaries  of  an  armistice  in  October,  1870,  he 
said  suddenly  to  M.  Thiers,  "  Let  us  return  to  civilisa- 
tion." He  wished  to  resume  one  of  the  unrestrained 
conversations  of  former  times.  The  representative  of 
conquered  France  was  not  in  a  mood  to  divert  his 
terrible  interlocutor.  Bismarck,  seeing  that  M.  Thiers 
was  worn  out  and  exhausted,  urged  him  to  rest  upon 
his  own  couch,  and  himself  covered  him  with  a 
mantle.  He  remained  unyielding,  however,  on  all 
the  great  points  at  issue.  France  had  to  cede  Alsace 
and  Lorraine,  and  to  consent  to  a  ransom  of  four 
milliards. 

The  treaty  being  concluded,  M.  Thiers  had  next  to 
get  it  accepted  by  the  Assembly,  and  then  to  carry 
it  out.  We  must  refer  the  reader  to  M.  Jules  Simon's 
book  for  all  that  relates  to  the  great  financial  opera- 
tion, by  which  M.  Thiers  contrived  to  redeem  and 
to  free  the  territory  of  France  without  bringing  about 
any  monetary  and  financial  crisis.  He  was  more 
proud  of  this  than  of  any  other  achievement  of  his 
life,  and  never  wearied  of  talking  of  it. 

Hardly  had  the  peace  been  signed  when  Paris  had 


28  CONTEMPORAR  Y  POR  TRAITS. 

to  be  rescued  from  the  most  formidable  insurrection 
of  modern  times.  The  war  against  the  Commune 
was  conducted  with  as  much  prudence  as  vigour,  and 
if  there  were  some  terrible  acts  of  reprisal  in  the  first 
moments  of  victory,  when  the  incendiary  fires  kindled 
by  brigands  were  still  raging,  when  the  blood  of  the 
hostages  was  reeking  around,  and  when  from  more 
than  one  house  in  the  faubourgs  shots  were  fired  on 
the  soldiers,  the  Government  must  not  be  held  re- 
sponsible  for  these  deeds  of  vengeance.  It  passed  no 
condemnations  en  masse,  and  M.  Thiers  was  always 
for  measures  of  humanity. 

The  political  question  began  from  this  time  to  pre- 
sent itself  in  all  its  gravity  to  the  National  Assembly. 
The  majority  of  that  Assembly  was  Royalist,  and  it  had 
hoped  to  find  an  instrument  to  carry  out  its  views  in 
the  head  of  the  executive  power,  formerly  so  bitter 
against  the  Republic.  His  old  Orleanist  friends,  who 
had  recognised  him  as  their  head  in  the  struggle 
against  the  Empire,  had  no  doubt  of  his  support.  He 
began  by  declaring  that  he  believed  it  to  be  his  duty, 
and  the  duty  of  all,  to  adjourn  the  question  of  the 
form  of  government.  In  his  memorable  speech  of 
the  17th  of  February,  1871,  he  said  :  "Can  there  be 
any  one  here  who  will  dare  to  discuss  learnedly  the 
articles  of  the  Constitution,  while  our  prisoners  are 
dying  miserably  in  distant  countries,  or  while  our 
people  at  home,  themselves  perishing  of  hunger,  are 
obliged  to  give  to  foreign  soldiers  their  last  remaining 


THIERS,  29 

morsel  of  bread  ?  When  we  have  lifted  from  the 
earth  where  he  lies  prostrate,  the  noble  wounded 
soldier  whom  we  call  France  ;  when  we  have  bound 
up  his  wounds,  and  revived  his  fainting  strength  ; 
when  he  has  come  to  himself  and  finds  he  can  again 
breathe  freely,  then,  indeed,  it  will  be  time  for  him 
to  see  how  he  shall  live.  Then  when,  under  the 
Government  of  the  Republic,  we  have  effected  our 
reconstitution,  we  shall  have  some  ground  to  go  upon 
in  deciding  our  future  destinies." 

M.  Thiers  had  already  arrived  at  his  own  decision, 
and  there  are  few  of  his  public  acts  which  deserve 
more  grateful  recognition,  than  the  promptitude  with 
which  he  sacrificed  his  own  political  preferences,  and 
threw  himself  heartily  into  the  cause  of  the  Re- 
public. He  gave  a  very  conclusive  reason  for  this 
adherence  to  the  Republic,  when  counselling  all  good 
citizens  to  take  the  same  course.  "  There  is  but  one 
throne,"  he  said,  "  and  there  are  three  men  who  wish 
to  sit  upon  it,  which  is  impossible !  " 

This  witty  sally  was  unanswerable,  and  the  reason 
given  was  undoubtedly  that  which  forced  an  Assembly, 
very  anti  -  republican  in  its  majority,  to  found  the 
Republic.  For  it  was  not  enough  to  be  simply  a 
Monarchist.  The  choice  had  to  be  made  between 
Legitimists,  Orleanists,  and  Bonapartists,  and  thus 
the  Monarchical  majority  became  a  house  divided 
against  itself.  It  could  only  agree  in  the  attempt  to 
undermine  the  power  of  M.  Thiers.     It  could  not  pre- 


30  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

vail  against  him  so  long  as  the  territory  was  not 
liberated,  but  it  never  ceased  to  place  difficulties  in 
his  way,  and  to  hinder  his  work  of  reparation,  entail- 
ing upon  him  arduous  conflicts  in  Parliament,  at  the 
very  time  when  he  was  bearing  the  burden  of  the 
liberation  and  reconstitution  of  the  country.  No  one 
has  described  better  than  M.  Simon  what  was  at  this 
time  the  life  of  M.  Thiers.  He  says  :  "  M.  Thiers  had 
to  do  with  everything.  All  despatches  passed  under 
his  eyes.  He  endeavoured  to  watch,  minute  by  minute, 
the  state  of  France  and  of  Europe.  During  all  the 
struggle  with  the  Commune,  he  was  seen  every  day 
at  the  foremost  posts.  His  soul  was  absorbed  in  the 
triple  conflict  with  the  Commune,  the  German  Chan- 
cellor, and  the  Assembly.  By  his  strength  of  will  and 
his  remarkable  penetration,  he  proved  himself  ade- 
quate to  all.  He  was  thoroughly  master  of  himself, 
and  could  keep  a  cheerful  face  while  his  mind  was 
oppressed  with  the  heaviest  weight  of  business.  He 
could  never  have  stood  the  incessant  strain  and  de- 
mand upon  him  but  for  this  natural  light-heartedness, 
which  enabled  him  rapidly  to  recover  calmness  and 
vivacity.  He  was,  indeed,  a  rare  man,  as  great  and 
as  attractive  in  the  intimacy  of  private  life  as  in  his 
public  career."  1 

It  must  be  admitted  that  M.  Thiers  was  often  mis- 
taken in  his  views  of  foreign  policy ;  that  he  was  too 

1 "  Le  Gouvernement  de  M.  Thiers,"  vol.  ii.  p.  241. 


THIERS.  31 

averse  to  the  great  reforms  which  were  needful  for 
restoring  a  country  that  had  been  so  despoiled  ;  that 
he  was  too  faithful  to  the  system  of  protection  in  the 
matter  of  imposts,  and  too  much  attached  to  the 
old  organisation  of  the  army.  In  fact,  he  was  un- 
willing for  any  change  in  this  direction,  especially  in 
the  law  for  recruiting  the  army. 

But  what  are  his  errors  in  comparison  to  the  vast 
services  he  rendered  to  the  nation  ?  Nor  was  it  on 
account  of  those  errors  that  he  was  overthrown  on 
the  24th  of  May,  for  they  were  shared  by  most  of  his 
adversaries.  That  which  they  could  not  forgive  him 
was  his  ever-increasingly  hearty  recognition  of  the 
Republic,  on  which  he  had  thrown  great  eclat  by  his 
Presidential  message  of  November,  1872.  That  day 
his  fall  was  decided.  His  enemies  only  waited  till 
the  liberation  of  the  territory  should  be  complete. 

The  very  day  after  the  Assembly  had  voted  that 
M.  Thiers  had  deserved  well  of  his  country,  the 
coalition  was  inaugurated  which  led  to  the  famous 
and  scandalous  transactions  of  the  24th  of  May. 
History  has  not  on  record  a  more  flagrant  act  of  in- 
gratitude. Its  results  strangely  balked  the  hopes  of 
its  authors,  for  they  had  the  effect  of  giving  to  the 
Republican  party,  the  cohesion  and  caution  to  which 
it  owed  its  success  three  years  later.  Never  had  M. 
Thiers  risen  to  such  a  height  of  eloquence  as  in  the 
proud  speech  which  preceded  the  final  vote.  Two 
days  later  some  friends  came  to  bring  him  the  ex- 


32  CONTEMPORARY  PORTRAITS. 

pression  of  their  admiration  and  sympathy  in  that 
Presidential  palace  of  Versailles,  all  solitary  and 
deserted,  from  which  the  liberator  of  the  territory  of 
France,  the  saviour  of  the  country,  was  being  driven 
out,  as  it  were,  by  the  impatient  hatred  of  those 
enemies  of  the  Republic  whose  impotence  would 
bring  its  own  Nemesis. 

Thiers  was  even  greater  in  retirement  than  in 
power.  He  remained  the  respected  leader  of  the  Re- 
publican party.  It  was  to  him  men  looked  for  the 
decisive  word  in  critical  moments.  Even  from  the 
grave  his  voice  made  itself  heard  in  his  electoral 
manifesto  against  the  coalition  of  the  16th  of  May, 
published  after  his  death.  He  worked  up  to 
the  last  hour  of  life.  He  fell  at  his  post  on  the 
battle-field,  spending  his  last  breath  for  his  beloved 
country. 

France  showed  the  extent  of  her  gratitude  at  the 
funeral  of  the  great  citizen.  Thousands  of  men  with 
tearful  faces  gathered  around  his  bier,  and  repressed 
their  indignation  under  unworthy  provocations,  in 
order  to  do  honour  to  his  memory  by  a  last  act  of 
patriotic  self-restraint. 

There  is  something  almost  overwhelming  in  the 
retrospect  of  M.  Thiers'  indefatigable  activity  through 
his  long  life,  and  of  all  that  has  resulted  from  it.  No 
one  understood  better  how  to  make  good  use  of  time. 
He  rose  every  day  at  five.  When  he  was  in  power, 
he  would  take  the  morning  hours,  when  he  was  sure 


THIERS.  33 

not  to  be  disturbed,  for  the  preparation  of  his 
speeches,  or  for  the  more  important  affairs  of  home 
or  foreign  policy.  He  gave  audiences  at  the  most 
unlikely  hours. 

After  his  return  to  private  life,  he  devoted  himself 
uninterruptedly  till  noon,  to  his  labours  as  a  writer. 
In  the  afternoon  he  went  to  the  Chamber,  and  regu- 
larly took  a  siesta  from  six  to  eight  in  the  evening. 
After  dinner  with  his  guests,  he  would  hold  a  recep- 
tion till  midnight,  always  standing,  always  animated, 
sparkling  with  wit,  affable  and  unassuming.  Gracious 
and  kindly  to  all,  he  was  particularly  affectionate  to 
his  friends,  and  never  forgot  an  act  of  friendship  or 
devotion  to  himself  or  to  his  cause.  He  bore  no 
malice  against  his  enemies  ;  he  now  and  then  gave 
a  witty  thrust  at  them,  more  or  less  cutting,  but  he 
knew  how  to  forget  the  gravest  wrongs.  At  the  time 
of  the  nomination  of  the  seventy-five  irremovable 
senators  to  the  National  Assembly,  there  was  an  un- 
derstanding between  the  Left  and  the  Extreme  Right 
which  detested  the  Orleanists  even  more  than  the 
Republicans.  One  of  the  senators  of  this  party  had 
distinguished  himself  by  his  abusive  speeches  against 
M.  Thiers.  "  Thiers  will  never  give  me  his  vote,"  he 
said  to  one  of  his  friends.  Thiers  sent  word  to  him 
that  he  might  count  upon  his  vote.  "  The  next  day," 
said  the  old  President  of  the  Republic,  "  I  saw  this 
same  senator  coming  to  me  with  a  smile  which  was 
almost  as  affectionate  as  an  embrace." 


34  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

"  Well,  yes,"  I  said  to  him,  "  I  will  vote  for  you  ; 
you  see  I  am  capable  of  anything."  This  fine  irony 
was  all  his  revenge. 

One  cannot  sufficiently  admire  the  energy  dis- 
played by  this  old  man,  in  appearance  so  frail.  His 
features  had  nothing  remarkable  in  themselves,  but 
his  sensitive,  intellectual  face  became  irresistibly  at- 
tractive in  conversation. 

He  will  live  in  history  as  the  Thiers  of  the  great 
days  of  blood  and  anguish,  those  days  when  he  stood 
forth  as  the  saviour  of  his  country  in  distress.  This  is 
the  Thiers  whom  we  have  represented  with  rare  power 
in  the  admirable  portrait  by  Bonnat.  This  is  the 
Thiers  who  was  named  with  acclamation  by  the  ma- 
jority of  the  Chamber  of  Deputies  in  the  month  of 
June,  1877,  when  one  of  the  most  maladroit  Ministers 
of  the  1 6th  of  May  had  the  impertinence  to  pay  homage 
to  the  Monarchists  of  the  National  Assembly,  for  the 
liberation  of  the  territory.  More  than  three  hundred 
deputies  sprang  to  their  feet  as  one  man,  and  pointing 
to  the  illustrious  old  patriot,  exclaimed  :  "  There  sits 
the  liberator  of  France  !  "  No  one  could  look  on  dry- 
eyed  at  such  a  scene.  Thiers  himself  shed  tears. 
Such  an  hour  outweighs  much  calumny. 

One  of  M.  Thiers'  last  labours  was  the  great  philo- 
sophical work  on  which  he  had  been  long  engaged. 
He  constantly  spoke  of  it  in  conversation.  His  aim 
was  to  oppose  with  all  his  energy  the  school  of  materi- 
alistic transformation,  which  banishes  God  alike  from 


THIERS.  35 

nature  and  history.  It  was  to  refute  this,  which  ap- 
peared to  him  the  most  noxious  error,  that  he  entered 
on  an  extensive  study  of  the  natural  sciences,  gather- 
ing around  him  their  most  eminent  representatives. 
He  did  not  himself  rise  above  deism.  Full  of 
respect  for  the  religion  of  Christ,  he  yet  did  not  cross 
the  barrier  which  divides  theism  from  supernatural 
religion.  But  his  faith  in  God  was  full  and  strong,  and 
in  his  preparations  for  its  defence,  he  showed  what 
importance  he  attached  to  it.  There  is  something 
grand  in  this  absorption  of  the  mind  of  the  great 
statesman,  at  the  close  of  life,  in  such  a  theme. 

The  memory  of  Thiers  remains  dear  and  sacred  to 
all  who  had  the  happiness  and  honour  of  his  friend- 
ship. His  name  is  inscribed  in  letters  of  gold  on 
the  annals  of  his  country — that  country  which  he 
so  passionately  loved,  so  courageously  warned  of  its 
danger,  so  faithfully  served  and  so  gloriously  saved. 


THE  ANTECEDENTS  OF  THE   VATICAN 
COUNCIL. 


THE  ANTECEDENTS  OF  THE 
VATICAN  COUNCIL. 

THE  signal  triumph  achieved  by  Ultramontanism 
at  the  Vatican  Council  was  no  sudden  success. 
It  was  the  denoument  of  a  cunningly  contrived 
policy  which  had  been  at  work  from  the  beginning  of 
the  century.  Of  the  importance  of  the  end  attained 
there  can  be  no  doubt;  and  we  shall  find  much  of 
interest  in  tracing  the  steps  which  led  up  to  it. ) 

Cardinal  Consalvi  said  one  day  to  Niebuhr,  refer- 
ring to  the  designs  of  the  Roman  Curia,  "  The  desired 
result  is  not  to  be  reached  directly  by  way  of  the 
Corso ;  it  can  only  be  arrived  at  by  oblique  paths." 
The  able  counsellor  of  Pius  VII.  characterised  in 
these  words  the  proceedings  of  the  Curia  up  to 
the  time  of  Pius  IX.  During  the  last  twenty  years, 
it  has  been  able  to  cast  aside  concealment  and 
finesse,  and  to  advance  boldly  by  the  Corso,  as 
by  a  new  Appian  way.  Recent  documents  throw 
a  clear  light  upon  these  tactics  of  the  leaders  of 
the  Ultramontane  party  in  both  phases — first  that 
of  intrigue,  and  next  of  bold  and  triumphant  advance. 
The  excellent    book    published  by  M.    Friedrich,  of 


40  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

Munich,  the  eminent  disciple  of  Dollinger,  on  the 
history  of  the  preparation  of  the  Council,  places 
within  our  reach  abundant  and  reliable  sources  of 
information,  by  means  of  which  we  may  trace  the 
progress  of  one  of  the  most  astonishing  enterprises 
of  the  papacy,  one  which  has  succeeded  in  trans- 
forming, in  less  than  a  century,  the  spirit  and  the 
institutions  of  a  Church  distinguished  above  all  others 
for  its  Conservatism.1 

This  is  the  climax  of  the  drama  of  the  age,  for  the 
close  of  the  century  will  be  occupied  with  conflicts 
between  the  Church  and  the  State,  arising  out  of  this 
dangerous  triumph.  The  death  of  Pius  IX.,  after  he 
had  accomplished  this  great  work,  was  but  an  unim- 
portant incident.  It  is  of  great  moment  for  the 
representatives  of  modern  society  to  know  the 
adversary  they  have  to  contend  with.  No  power  has 
understood  better  than  the  Roman  Curia  how  to 
bend  to  the  necessities  of  the  time,  without  renounc- 
ing its  principle,  and  how  to  make  itself  all  things  to 
all  men,  while  remaining  really  unchanged.  At  one 
time  it  appears  as  the  avowed  ally  of  the  ancien 
regime,  the  moving  genius  of  the  Holy  Alliance  ;  at 


1  "  Geschichte  des  Vatikanischen  Konzils,"  by  J.  Friedrich. 
See  also  "  L'Etat  Moderne  et  PEglise  Catholique  en  Alle- 
magne,"  by  Ernest  Stroehlin  ;  also  M.  Geffcken's  able  work, 
"  Staat  und  Kirche  in  ihrem  Verhaltniss  entwickelt."3  I  have 
made  use  of  many  other  works  referring  to  the  Council,  which 
I  need  not  enumerate. 


THE  ANTECEDENTS  OF  THE  VATICAN  COUNCIL.     41 

another  it  apparently  espouses  democracy,  adopts  its 
methods  and  maxims,  and  learns  to  assail  the  Revo- 
lution with  its  own  weapons.  Now  the  Roman  party 
is  humble,  pliant — serpit  humi ;  it  twines  round  its 
foe  rather  than  strikes  at  it,  because  it  feels  itself  sus- 
pected and  detested  ;  again  it  commands,  threatens, 
inflames  popular  passion,  or  lets  itself  be  borne 
along  by  the  strong  waves  of  an  insensate  reaction. 
Patiens  quia  ceturnns.  If  its  webs  break  away  from 
one  point,  it  immediately  gathers  up  the  broken 
threads  and  fastens  them  elsewhere.  The  State  is  far 
less  wary ;  after  resisting  vehemently  the  encroach- 
ments of  the  Church,  it  allows  itself  to  be  diverted 
and  surprised.  Its  adversary  never  slumbers  or 
sleeps  ;  it  takes  advantage  of  an  unguarded  moment 
on  the  part  of  a  Minister,  to  slip  into  the  nomination 
papers  of  a  bishop,  an  equivocal  clause  infringing  the 
civil  rights.  The  reader  needs  to  have  before  his 
eyes  a  comprehensive  picture,  or  a  powerful  resume  of 
all  the  proceedings  of  the  ecclesiastical  policy,  in 
order  to  form  any  idea  of  the  subtlety  with  which  all 
has  been  contrived  to  ensure  success. 


I. 

At  the  close  of  the  eighteenth  century,  the  Catholic 
Church  was  in  great  part  freed  from  Ultramontane 
influences.  In  the  principal  countries  of  Europe  the 
civil  power  had  offered  a  steady  opposition  to  it,  and 


42  CONTEMPORARY  PORTRAITS. 

one  Pope  had  even  gone  so  far  as  to  condemn  the 
Society  of  Jesus.  That  society  had  found  itself  com- 
pelled to  quit  France,  though  it  had  endeavoured  to 
bend  before  the  storm.  There  were  even  a  certain 
number  of  its  members  who,  hoping  to  save  their 
order,  gave  their  adherence  to  the  declaration  of  1682. 
It  is  said  that  the  unhappy  signataries  affected  not  to 
read  the  document  which  was  presented  to  them,  and 
asked  with  an  air  of  indifference,  "  if  there  was  any- 
thing more  to  sign."  "  Yes,"  was  the  answer,  "  there 
is  still  the  Koran,  but  we  have  not  a  copy  at  hand." 
Nothing  could  show  more  clearly  how  thoroughly 
humiliated  were  these  defenders  to  the  death  of  the 
Holy  See.  Expelled  from  France  and  Spain,  their 
system  was  completely  broken  up  in  Austria  and  in 
Italy  by  Joseph  II.,  who  established  not  only  the  in- 
dependence but  the  autocracy  of  the  State  in  religious 
matters.  The  old  French  clergy,  on  emerging  from 
the  vortex  of  the  Revolution,  had  not  become  Ultra- 
montane, though  they  had  nobly  resisted  the  schism 
organised  by  the  civil  constitution  of  the  clergy. 
They  remained,  for  the  most  part,  attached  to  that 
modified  Gallicanism  which  gave  them  a  peculiar 
character,  since  its  close  connection  with  the  old 
royal  family  and  the  old  noblesse  was  not  compatible 
with  the  abandonment  of  the  maxims  of  Old  France. 
We  have  all  known  representatives  and  descendants 
of  this  distinguished  body  of  the  clergy,  whom  mis- 
fortune and  persecution  had  only  purified  and  ennobled. 


THE  ANTECEDENTS  OF  THE  VATICAN  COUNCIL.    43 

There  was  about  them  an  air  of  priestly  gravity,  and 
of  dignity  without  arrogance,  which  marked  them  out 
from  all  their  brethren.  They  bore  no  resemblance 
to  the  new  generation,  so  degraded  by  servitude  that 
they  do  not  shrink  from  sullying  with  sacrilegious 
fingers  the  sacred  memory  of  Bossuet.  We  have  clear 
proof  of  the  predominance  of  Gallican  ideas  in  the 
Catholic  Church  forty  years  ago,  in  the  language  used 
in  1829  by  the  Vicars  Apostolic  of  Great  Britain, 
before  the  great  Parliamentary  Commission  charged 
with  preparing  the  abolition  of  the  laws  restricting 
their  liberties.  They  affirmed  upon  oath  "that  the 
infallibility  of  the  Pope  is  not  an  article  of  faith."  I 
The  doctrine  of  infallibility  was,  indeed,  positively 
denied  in  the  catechisms  and  theological  manuals  in 
use  at  that  time. 

It  is,  then,  a  fact  capable  of  proof,  that  the  prevail- 
ing doctrine  of  European  Catholicism  at  the  com- 
mencement of  the  century,  was  not  Ultramontanism. 
We  remember  the  resistance  offered  to  it  by  the 
Government  of  the  Restoration,  in  spite  of  the  dan- 
gerous favours  lavished  by  that  Government  on  the 
Church.  Half  a  century  has  barely  passed  away, 
and  all  is  changed  ;  the  preponderating  influence  is 
everywhere  in  the  hands  of  the  Roman  party.  It  is 
important  for  us  to  understand  how  this  change  has 
been  effected,  and  to  see  by  what  a  series  of  efforts, 

1  "  The  Vatican  Decrees/'  &c,  by  W.  E.  Gladstone,  p.  36. 


44  CONTEMPORAR  Y  PORTRAITS. 

and  by  what  pressure  on  public  opinion,  the  Roman 
Curia  has  attained  its  ends. 

We  have  to  observe,  first  of  all,  that  it  found  facili- 
ties not  hitherto  enjoyed,  in  the  state  of  men's  minds 
at  the  close  of  the  French  Revolution.  By  the  mere 
fact  that  the  civil  power  had  not  only  renounced  its 
role  of  protector  of  the  Church,  but  had  also  lifted  up 
its  arm  against  it  in  violent  and  unjust  persecutions, 
the  Church  was  led  to  seek  the  support  of  the  Holy 
See.  It  had  no  longer  to  deal  with  an  orthodox 
royalty  which  was  always  ready  to  defend  it,  and  to 
bestow  endless  favours  in  return  for  its  submission. 
Now  that  the  old  institutions  had  fallen,  all  their 
abuses  were  forgotten  ;  a  veil  of  poetry  was  thrown 
over  their  ruins.  The  soul,  wearied  with  so  many 
shocks,  and  with  the  tears  and  blood  of  the  days  of 
the  Revolution,  turned  with  relief  to  the  past,  and 
idealised  it.  Thus  arose  that  romantic  school,  en- 
amoured of  everything  mediaeval,  which  made  the 
fortune  of  the  Genie  dn  Christianisme,  and  which 
under  Schlegel  and  Gorres  founded  the  Munich 
School,  which  exercised  a  great  influence  over  an 
emasculated  generation,  and  created  a  strong  reaction 
against  the  liberal  idea  of  the  modern  State. 

The  Roman  Curia  was  not  satisfied  with  these 
general  influences  favourable  to  its  views.  It  had  a 
definite  plan,  and  its  skill  was  exercised  in  bringing 
every  influence  to  bear  upon  it.  It  knew  how  to  take 
advantage  of  circumstances,  and  how  to  call   them 


THE  ANTECEDENTS  OF  THE  VATICAN  COUNCIL.     45 

forth.  Its  action  was  twofold — by  turns  political  and 
moral ;  sometimes  the  Roman  Curia  would  negotiate 
with  the  powers  ;  sometimes  it  would  endeavour  to 
create  an  opinion  favourable  to  itself. 

The  Concordats  which  have  been  concluded  in  our 
time  between  the  Holy  See  and  the  various  Govern- 
ments, have  almost  always  been  used  by  the  papacy 
to  secure  great  and  important  advantages  ;  for,  as 
they  were  negotiated  generally  with  powers  having 
but  a  slight  acquaintance  with  ecclesiastical  affairs, 
and  averse,  either  from  pride  or  from  jealousy  of  their 
own  authority,  from  consulting  the  national  episcopate, 
the  papacy  took  large  advantage  of  their  ignorance. 
This  statement  may  perhaps  seem  surprising,  at  a 
time  when  the  Concordat  is  regarded  in  France  as 
the  great  bulwark  against  the  encroachments  of  the 
clergy  ;  but  the  explanation  of  this  is  that  the  Con- 
cordat is  generally  confounded  with  the  legislation 
of  Germinal  Year  X.,  which  the  First  Consul  drew  up 
entirely  by  himself,  without  having  consulted  the  Holy 
Father  on  this  postscriptum,  in  which  he  embodied 
all  his  own  views,  with  very  little  regard  to  the 
spiritual  independence.  To  this  he  put  his  signature. 
The  Pope  had  only  consented  to  the  Concordat,  and 
the  few  concessions  which  he  had  made  touching 
the  unity  of  religion  and  the  temporalities  of  the 
Church,  were  largely  counterbalanced  by  the  right 
he  had  obtained  for  the  first  time,  of  dismissing 
bishops — a  right  altogether  at  variance  with  the  an- 


46  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

cient  constitution  of  the  Church,  which  was  based 
upon  the  Divine  institution  of  the  episcopate.  It 
was  the  First  Consul  who  had  urged  him  to  reduce 
the  number  of  the  dioceses.  He  showed  himself  by 
this  act  a  strange  disciple  of  Bossuet,  whose  name 
was  perpetually  on  his  lips.  "  It  was  the  author  of 
the  Concordat,"  said  Lamennais  in  1819,  "who  made 
the  Pope  the  supreme  head  of  the  pastoral  order,  and 
the  source  of  the  jurisdiction  of  the  Church."  The 
Concordat  concluded  with  the  King  of  Prussia  in 
1812,  secured  enormous  advantages  to  the  Court  of 
Rome  ;  the  Concordats  signed  in  1865  by  the 
Grand  Duke  of  Baden  and  the  King  of  Wiirtemburg 
went  so  far  in  this  direction  that  they  were  met  with 
invincible  opposition  in  the  parliaments  of  the  two 
countries. 

The  Roman  Curia  has  had  to  treat  not  only  with 
princes,  but  with  that  modern  democracy  which  can 
but  excite  its  antipathy.  Its  great  art  has  been  to 
derive  advantage  from  it  even  while  condemning  it,  by 
turning  to  its  own  account  the  liberal  institutions 
which  had  triumphed  in  spite  of  papal  resistance. 

The  papacy  formally  anathematised  these  institu- 
tions in  principle,  as  when  Gregory  XVI.  condemned, 
in  the  Encyclical  of  1833,  the  doctrines  of"  L'Avenir" 
as  presented  by  Lamennais,  their  fervid  apostle ;  but 
it  deemed  it  well  afterwards  to  observe  a  prudent 
silence,  in  order  that  its  champions  might  secure  to 
themselves  again,  under  the  broad  shield  of  liberty, 


THE  ANTECEDENTS  OF  THE  VATICAN  COUNCIL.    47 

immunities  which  they  could  no  longer  hold  as 
privileges.  It  was  quite  willing  that  its  partisans 
should  assume  for  a  time  the  garb  of  sincere  Liberals, 
since  this  gave  more  potency  to  their  claims.  Ultra- 
montanism,  under  their  advocacy,  appeared  shorn  of 
all  that  could  be  antipathetic  to  the  modern  mind, 
and  was  represented  as  the  guarantee  of  religious 
liberty,  in  opposition  to  the  injurious  pretensions  of 
the  State.  We  know  with  what  noble  eloquence  and 
courageous  loyality,  Lacordaire  and  Montalembert 
played  their  part,  the  former  in  his  white  Dominican 
robe  at  Notre  Dame,  the  latter  from  the  tribune  of 
the  Chamber  of  Peers.  The  result  of  this  brilliant 
campaign  was  the  too  famous  law  of  185 1,  giving 
liberty  of  teaching,  which  introduced  the  episcopate 
into  the  Superior  Council  of  Public  Instruction,  handed 
over' in  great  part  primary  education  to  the  religious 
bodies,  and  practically  removed  the  barriers  to  the 
re-establishment  of  the  religious  orders,  foremost 
among  whom  came  the  Jesuits. 

After  the  establishment  of  the  Second  Empire  all 
was  changed.  The  Ultramontane  party,  which  until 
then  had  appeared  united  in  its  Liberal  demonstra- 
tions, suddenly  broke  up  into  two  factions  at  deadly 
warfare  with  each  other.  On  the  one  hand  were 
the  Ultramontane  Liberals,  who  continued  to  seek  to 
reconcile  Catholicism  with  modern  liberties  ;  on  the 
other  hand  was  a  phalanx  of  Ultramontanes,  the 
sworn    enemies    of    all    liberties    except   their   own. 


48  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

These,  after  hailing  with  acclamation  the  Dictator- 
ship of  December  2nd,  shook  off  the  dust  of  their 
feet  against  the  whole  social  system  created  by  the 
Revolution.  For  a  long  time  Liberal  Catholicism 
remained  in  the  ascendant.  It  had  in  its  favour  the 
services  it  had  rendered,  and  the  patriotic  attitude  it 
had  assumed  towards  the  personal  power.  It  was 
none  the  less  doomed  to  defeat ;  for  by  exalting  the 
authority  of  the  Pope  it  had  sealed  its  own  sentence. 
When  Montalembert  ventured  to  vindicate  religious 
liberty  at  the  Congress  of  Malines,  as  a  principle,  and 
not  merely  as  a  concession  to  the  exigencies  of  the 
times,  the  Encyclical  of  1864  and  the  Syllabus  were 
brought  to  bear  upon  him  and  upon  his  school,  with 
all  their  crushing  weight. 

Ultramontanism  had  its  reckoning  with  the  Liberals 
of  its  party,  after  making  use  of  them  for  its  own 
purposes.  Montalembert  and  Lacordaire  both  died, 
bitterly  lamenting  that  all  the  devotion,  zeal  and 
talent  they  had  expended  in  the  cause  of  religion, 
had  only  ended  in  the  destruction  of  liberty.  They 
had  been  made  tools  of  by  a  hand  stronger  than  their 
own. 

We  know  with  what  consummate  art  the  Belgian 
Ultramontanes  contrived  to  use  liberty  as  a  means  of 
securing  to  themselves  all  the  posts  of  power,  till  the 
time  came  when  they  could  turn  round  and  say: 
"  The  house  is  ours  ;   it  is  for  you  to  begone." 

They  were  powerfully  aided  in  their  work  by  the 


THE  ANTECEDENTS  OF  THE   VATICAN  COUNCIL.     49 

sincere  Liberals  among  them  who  represented  the 
school  of  "  L'Avenir."  Nowhere  have  these  tactics 
been  more  successfully  employed  than  in  Germany. 
Wise  and  moderate  views  had  gained  a  great  as- 
cendancy there  at  the  commencement  of  the  cen- 
tury, owing  to  the  remarkable  development  of  true 
scientific  culture  in  some  of  the  universities,  beyond 
the  narrow  precincts  of  the  seminaries.  Bishops  like 
Dalberg  of  Mayence  and  Wissemberg  of  Constance, 
there  represented  the  tradition  of  the  great  Gallican 
Councils.  Thoughtful  statesmen  imbued  with  the 
modern  spirit,  like  Count  Montgelas,  the  able  Bava- 
rian Minister,  had  firmly  maintained  the  rights  of  the 
State.  It  had  been  difficult  to  assail  their  position  in 
ordinary  times  ;  the  formidable  agitation  which  broke 
out  in  1848  presented  a  more  favourable  opportunity 
for  successfully  urging  the  claims  of  Ultramontanism. 
The  heads  of  the  party  did  not  hesitate  a  moment 
to  throw  themselves  into  the  democratic  movement 
which  led  to  the  Frankfort  Parliament.  There  they 
made  common  cause  with  the  advanced  Left,  asking, 
as  the  people's  representatives,  the  entire  separation  of 
the  Church  from  the  State,  and  endeavouring  to  place 
the  liberties  which  alone  they  had  at  heart,  under  the 
shelter  of  the  general  liberties  claimed  by  the  demo- 
crats. They  hoped  thus  to  checkmate  the  State,  and 
to  secure  the  interests  of  religion.  "  Let  the  civil 
power,"  said  the  Archbishop  of  Cologne  to  his  clergy, 
"  still  lend  us  its  support,  but  not  fetter  us  any  further 

5 


50  CONTEMPORARY  PORTRAITS. 

in  the  fulfilment  of  our  mission.  Let  us  have  no  more 
placets,  no  more  appeals  against  abuses,  no  more 
nominations  to  benefices,  no  more  lay  schools."  A 
petition,  to  which  were  affixed  more  than  300,000 
signatures,  besought  the  Frankfort  Parliament  to 
put  the  Church  again  under  the  common  law.  The 
orators  of  the  party  got  themselves  applauded  by  the 
most  advanced  members,  and  secured  by  a  large 
majority  the  all  but  absolute  liberty  of  the  Church,  as 
one  of  the  fundamental  articles  of  the  constitution  of 
the  Empire.  It  is  true  that  they  could  not  prevent 
the  Parliament  from  secularising  the  schools  and 
rendering  civil  marriage  obligatory  ;  hence  the  Roman 
party  faced  round  with  incredible  rapidity  ;  and  while 
claiming  to  keep  what  they  had  gained,  took  advan- 
tage of  the  reaction  that  had  set  in  in  Bavaria,  to 
demand  from  the  Congress  of  Wiirzburg  the  recension 
of  the  few  clauses  favourable  to  the  civil  power,  that 
had  been  passed  at  Frankfort.  The  Roman  party 
has  never  ceased  from  that  time  to  play  the  same 
double  game  in  every  one  of  the  German  States. 

In  vain  at  an  assembly  convoked  at  Durlach,  in  the 
Grand  Duchy  of  Baden,  to  resist  these  encroach- 
ments, did  the  celebrated  Hausser,  a  man  equally 
distinguished  as  a  historian  and  a  politician,  denounce 
the  Ultramontane  proceedings  in  the  following 
words :  M I  know  too  well  that  the  liberty  of  the 
Church  is  the  illusive  watchword  beneath  which 
lies    the    daring   determination    to    drag    back    the 


THE  ANTECEDENTS  OF  THE  VATICAN  COUNCIL.     51 

State,  if  possible,  into  its  former  state  of  servitude. 
Ultramontane  liberty  is  not  liberty  for  the  State,  but 
the  subordination  of  the  State  to  the  Church."  In 
spite  of  all  this,  the  extreme  party  continued  its 
noisy,  hypocritical  demonstrations  in  favour  of  demo- 
cracy. In  the  very  same  Duchy  of  Baden,  in  1869, 
it  gave  its  hand  to  the  most  advanced  democrats,  and 
clamoured  with  them  for  immediate  universal  suf- 
frage, as  the  inalienable  right  of  the  people.  "  The 
needs  of  the  age,"  said  Canon  Lasker,  "  are  in  accord- 
ance with  the  designs  of  Providence."  "  Society  will 
never  be  saved,"  exclaims  another  fanatic  of  the 
same  party,  "  but  by  the  alliance  of  Christianity  with 
democracy." 

The  same  tactics  were  pursued  in  Wiirtemburg, 
with  this  difference — that,  at  the  very  moment  when 
the  Ultramontanes  were  making  a  compact  with  the 
Republicans,  they  were  also  practising  secretly  with 
the  opposite  party.  All  their  sympathies  were  really 
in  this  direction,  for  while  they  flattered  the  democracy, 
they  hated  it  at  heart,  and  utterly  repudiated  its 
essential  principle,  which  is  that  sovereignty  is  con- 
ferred by  the  people,  instead  of  having  its  seat  on  the 
cloudy  heights  of  a  divine  right. 

The  proceedings  of  the  Ultramontanes  in  Switzer- 
land in  1848  form  one  of  the  most  curious  episodes  of 
this  crusade.  They  had  chosen  the  canton  of  Lucerne 
as  their  battle-field  ;  their  chief  aim  was  to  obtain 
from    the    Great    Council    the   reintegration    of    the 


5  2  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

Jesuits,  in  order  that  the  instruction  of  the  people 
might  be  handed  over  to  them.  The  task  was  a  diffi- 
cult one,  for  they  had  not  only  to  contend  with  local 
obstacles,  but  also  to  enter  into  conflict  with  most  of 
the  confederated  cantons.  Tn  relation  to  the  incidents 
of  this  struggle,  we  have  documentary  authority  which 
cannot  be  disputed,  namely,  the  report  of  the  ecclesi- 
astical condition  of  Switzerland  presented  by  Bishop 
Luchet,  the  Pope's  envoy  extraordinary.  From  this 
we  learn  that  Ultramontane  fanaticism  would  not 
bow  even  to  the  sovereignty  of  the  Holy  Father, 
when  it  received  from  Rome  counsels  of  prudence  and 
moderation.  It  was  by  unscrupulously  stirring  up 
the  popular  passions  that  the  friends  of  the  Jesuits, 
headed  by  Councillor  Leu  (who  was  afterwards  assas- 
sinated), obtained  a  favourable  vote  from  the  Great 
Council,  with  this  modifying  clause — that  the  State 
reserved  to  itself  the  right  of  inspecting  the  schools  ;  a 
condition  nullified  at  the  same  time  that  it  was  given 
by  a  secret  clause,  in  which  the  reverend  fathers  de- 
clared that  they  could  not  in  any  way  infringe  the 
rules  of  their  order.  The  ratification  of  the  people 
was  secured  by  means  of  a  succession  of  open-air 
meetings,  at  which  the  new  leaguers  gave  impassioned 
harangues,  blending  threats  of  hell  with  inflammatory 
appeals  tc  the  populace.  The  episcopate  had  not 
power  to  resist,  and  was  forced  to  yield  to  the  pressure 
of  misguided  popular  opinion.  The  attitude  of  the 
Protestant  cantons  presaged  a  fearful  civil  war.     The 


THE  ANTECEDENTS  OF  THE  VATICAN  COUNCIL.     53 

venerable  Metternich  counselled  adjournment ;  the 
Nuncios  of  Lucerne  and  of  Paris  gave  the  same 
advice,  which  was  confirmed  by  the  Court  of  Rome. 
The  Ultramontane  agitators  ventured  to  intercept  the 
warnings  of  the  Holy  Father.  The  Nuncio  of  Lucerne 
could  not  restrain  his  indignation  when  he  heard 
Father  Roth,  the  superior  of  the  Jesuits  in  the  canton, 
declare  that  civil  war  did  not  terrify  him.  "  What !  " 
exclaimed  the  Roman  prelate.  "  The  Church  bids  us 
ask  in  its  prayers  to  be  delivered  from  famine,  from 
pestilence,  and  from  war,  and  here  is  a  priest  who 
clamours  for  war  !  "  War  did,  in  fact,  break  out — that 
impious  war  which  pitted  against  each  other  Protes- 
tant and  Catholic  Switzerland.  If  it  was  promptly 
brought  to  an  end,  thanks  to  the  clever  manoeuvres 
of  an  able  and  humane  general,  it  was  nevertheless 
a  great  crime,  for  which  those  fanatics  are  responsible 
who  made  the  crucifix  a  firebrand  to  kindle  civil  dis- 
order. 

The  war  of  the  Sunderbund  showed  to  what  lengths 
this  blending  of  fanaticism  with  democracy  might 
lead,  creating  a  new  order  of  Jacobins,  who  could  don 
the  bonnet  rouge  without  doffing  the  frock. 


II. 

The  Ultramontane  school  was  not  content  with 
turning  the  general  liberties  to  the  account  of  its  own 
policy.     When   it   failed   to  wring  from  the  modern 


54  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

governments  the  concessions  it  desired,  it  made  use 
of  the  democratic  element  in  another  way.  It  bor- 
rowed democratic  methods  of  propagandism,  when  it 
no  longer  thought  it  necessary  to  swell  the  ravings  of 
militant  radicalism.  In  old  Europe  the  Ultramon- 
tane school  endeavoured  to  win  over  the  minds  of 
men,  by  learned  or  subtle  dissertations  ;  it  flung  dusty 
folios  at  the  heads  of  its  adversaries,  and  only  the 
erudite  could  take  part  in  the  discussion.  But  in  our 
day,  doctrines  the  most  hostile  to  modern  society,  are 
defended  with  the  lightest  weapons  by  daring  inno- 
vators. The  dust  of  the  school  is  shaken  off;  and  St. 
Thomas,  broken  up  into  small  portions  and  presented 
in  the  form  of  popular  pamphlets,  is  made  singularly 
light  reading.  While  heartily  abusing  the  liberty  of 
the  press — which  in  ex-cathedra  parlance  is  called  a 
pest — the  Ultramontanes  nevertheless  make  large  use 
of  this  powerful  lever  of  public  opinion.  Ultramon- 
tanism  has  its  irritating,  sardonic  press,  ever  ready  to 
propagate  scandal,  seasoning  its  very  theological  trea- 
tises with  the  coarsest  allusions,  and  endeavouring  to 
crush  its  adversaries  by  the  pitiless  ridicule  poured  upon 
them.  These  proceedings  have  called  forth  earnest 
protests  on  the  part  of  thoughtful  men,  who  deem 
that  religious  discussion  should  be  carried  on  seriously, 
and  at  the  very  least  honestly.  Bishops,  and  the 
learned  and  eloquent  guardians  of  the  traditions  of 
the  dignity  and  high  culture  of  the  Church,  have  at- 
tempted to  stem  the  torrent,  but  in  vain  ;  they  have 


THE  ANTECEDENTS  OF  THE   VATICAN  COUNCIL.     55 

only  had  to  retreat,  bespattered  with  foam,  and  having 
drawn  down  upon  themselves  the  displeasure  of  Rome. 
Lacordaire  wrote  to  Madame  Swetchine  :  "  I  am 
willing  to  take  my  place  at  the  feet  of  the  successors 
of  the  apostles,  but  not  at  the  feet  of  a  band  of  scof- 
fers, who  bring  everything  to  the  tribunal  of  their 
satirical  talent."  Alas !  the  Ultramontane  press  ren- 
dered greater  services  to  the  school  which  sought  to 
bring  all  into  a  common  bondage,  than  did  a  noble 
spirit  like  Lacordaire,  of  whom  Lambruschini  once 
said  :  "  He  is  another  Lamennais."  All  possible  en- 
couragement from  high  quarters  was  given  to  this 
rabid  journalism,  of  which  all  noble  minds  among  the 
Catholics  were  heartily  ashamed,  and  which  was  a  dis- 
grace to  our  common  humanity.  Words  of  approbation 
were  followed  by  papal  briefs.  The  Civilta  Cattolica, 
the  organ  of  the  Society  of  Jesus,  was  formally  re- 
cognised in  a  Roman  congregation.  An  agency  for 
Catholic  journals  was  founded  in  Rome,  and  more 
than  two  hundred  daily  and  weekly  papers  were  em- 
ployed to  disseminate  sound  doctrine  and  to  dictate  to 
the  dioceses.  Ultramontane  journalism  has  created  a 
sort  of  third  order  of  a  new  kind.  Laymen  in  short 
frocks,  and  with  their  sleeves  tucked  up,  are  seen  enter- 
ing like  pugilists  into  ecclesiastical  discussions,  and 
laying  down  the  law  for  the  bishops,  whose  remon- 
strances receive  no  reply.  Mgr.  Dupanloup  wasted  his 
eloquence  on  this  subject.  The  tribunes  of  the  altar 
carried  the  day  against  the  prelates,  for  they  used  all 


56  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

the  means  which  current  polemics  put  within  their 
reach,  to  overthrow  those  whom  they  could  not  con- 
vince. It  must  not  be  forgotten  that  the  programme 
of  the  last  Council  was  prepared  in  the  offices  of  the 
Civilta  Cattolica,  and  propagated  by  the  Ultramon- 
tane press,  which  exerted  an  irresistible  influence  over 
public  opinion. 

One  of  the  great  engines  of  democratic  propa- 
gandism  is  association,  which  is  practised  on  a  large 
scale,  and  fostered  by  noisy  meetings.  Congresses  of 
all  sorts  have  been  much  facilitated  by  the  multi- 
plication of  rapid  modes  of  communication.  The 
school  which  is  most  averse  to  modern  progress  has 
not  disdained  to  use  these  inventions  of  the  devil,  and 
has  utilised  them  to  its  own  advantage,  perhaps  more 
largely  than  any  other  party.  There  is  no  more 
effectual  means  of  producing  an  agitation,  and  of 
overcoming  inconvenient  objections,  especially  those 
which  are  based  on  science  or  conscience,  than  these 
irregular  gatherings,  in  which  the  voting  is  not  deter- 
mined by  any  fixed  rule.  It  is  quite  easy  to  work  up 
assemblies  like  these  to  a  white  heat,  to  an  almost 
delirious  fanaticism,  and  then  to  make  use  of  them  to 
bring  pressure  to  bear  on  the  regular  authorities  of  the 
Church.  This  was  attempted  by  the  Ultramontane 
party  in  Switzerland  and  in  Germany.  The  famous 
Association,  known  as  the  "  Pius  Verein,"  founded  at 
Mayence,  and  recognised  by  Pius  IX.  in  1849,  without 
any  previous  sanction  from  the  German  episcopate, 


THE  ANTECEDENTS  OF  THE  VATICAN  COUNCIL.     57 

at  once  raised  the  standard  of  the  Ultramontane 
crusade.  Under  the  direction  of  laymen,  as  fanatic 
as  they  were  ignorant,  and  without  any  competence 
to  resolve  questions  of  dogma  or  of  discipline,  it  yet 
exerted  a  widespread  and  fatal  influence.  Assem- 
bling at  regular  periods  in  the  great  Catholic  centres 
of  Germany,  it  was  not  inactive  in  the  interval ; 
and  by  its  local  associations  for  works  of  charity, 
for  teaching,  for  the  cultivation  of  religious  art, 
and  the  dissemination  through  the  press  of  right 
views,  it  cast  around  the  Church  a  network  so  close, 
that  it  was  impossible  to  break  it.  The  intimidated 
bishops  were  obliged,  though  often  reluctantly,  to 
submit  to  its  will,  and  thus  it  created  an  irresistible 
current  of  opinion  in  support  of  its  favourite  doctrines. 
Enlightened  and  wise  men,  like  Hirscher,  remon- 
strated in  vain  against  these  irregular,  incompetent 
assemblies,  which  set  at  nought  all  constituted  authori- 
ties in  their  gross  adulation  of  the  papacy,  and  were 
enemies  alike  of  science  and  of  true  piety.  Was  it 
not  their  avowed  design  to  form  an  international 
federation,  which  should  cast  at  the  feet  of  the  Holy 
See  the  Churches  of  all  countries,  confounding  them 
in  one  common  servility  ?  The  voice  of  the  great 
publicist  was  wasted  on  the  desert  air.  The  great 
jubilee  of  Boniface,  which  was  celebrated  with  extra- 
ordinary pomp  at  Mayence,  on  the  14th  December, 
1854,  raised  the  agitation  to  a  climax.  Switzerland, 
in  its  turn,  had  its  "  Pius  Verein."     At  the  same  time 


58  CONTEMPORARY  PORTRAITS. 

France  was  preparing  to  found  Theological  Commit- 
tees, and  to  multiply  their  congresses,  which  have 
become,  as  we  know,  an  important  feature  in  the 
Ultramontane  organisation. 

The  Catholic  Working  Men's  Clubs,  the  object  of 
which  is  more  political  than  religious,  are  a  power- 
ful weapon  in  the  hands  of  the  same  party  for  attack- 
ing modern  society,  which  it  would  fain  (to  use  the 
language  of  one  of  its  lay  leaders)  conduct  to  a  civil 

burial. 

III. 

Hitherto  we  have  been  looking  only  at  the  volun- 
teers of  Ultramontanism,  its  irregular  forces  which 
have  succeeded  in  leading  on  the  regular  army.  It  is 
time  now  that  we  turned  to  the  authorised  heads  of 
the  Ultramontane  school,  who  are  no  other  than  the 
heads  of  the  Catholic  hierarchy  itself  in  its  own 
metropolis.  These  were  impatient  to  be  no  longer  a 
school  of  disputed  authority,  but  to  become  the  Church 
itself,  and  so  advance  their  pretensions  as  irrefragable 
claims.  Hence  their  one  object  was  to  secure  the  pro- 
clamation of  the  dogma  of  infallibility.  Until  this  was 
done  their  edifice  lacked  its  keystone.  In  reality,  that 
which  they  aimed  at  was  the  abolition  of  all  liberty, 
of  every  right  and  privilege  which  could  counter- 
balance or  control  the  central  power.  For  this 
purpose  it  was  necessary  to  sacrifice  all  secondary 
authority  for  the  benefit  of  the  papacy,  to  destroy 
the  last  vestiges  of  national  Churches,  and  especially 


THE  ANTECEDENTS  OF  THE  VATICAN  COUNCIL.     59 

to  reduce  the  episcopate  to  an  entirely  subordinate 
position. 

There  could  be  no  better  way  of  doing  this  than  a 
return  to  the  old,  sure  method  of  despots  who  under- 
stood their  business — the  method  which  the  Caesars 
had  so  cunningly  used  in  Rome,  in  sacrificing  the  patri- 
cians to  the  plebs.  Modern  Ultramontanism  closely 
followed  their  example,  not  scorning  to  have  recourse 
to  the  low  but  effective  policy  described  in  the  famous 
words:  " Pcuiem  et  circensesr  We  would  be  very 
careful  not  to  seem  to  say  anything  against  the  bread 
of  charity ;  that  is  sacred,  if  only  it  be  broken  to  all 
the  hungry,  and  not  made  the  price  for  which  they 
are  to  sell  their  consciences.  As  to  the  circenses — the 
great  representations  which  appeal  to  the  eye — have 
they  not  been  lavishly  provided  for  the  Catholic 
masses,  in  those  pilgrimages  to  miraculous  caves,  in 
which  the  fervour  of  the  devotees  is  fed  by  fanatic 
hymns,  and  by  feverish  legends  of  virgins  who  see 
visions  and  utter  infantile  oracles?  The  character 
thus  impressed  during  the  last  few  years  on  popular 
devotion  has  done  much  to  develop  Ultramontane 
fanaticism.  There  would  almost  seem  to  arise  from 
the  lips  of  this  fanatic  host,  the  materialistic  prayer  of 
ancient  Israel  to  Moses  :  "  Make  us  gods  to  go  before 
us."  The  tangible  divinity  thus  sought  has  been 
given  in  the  form  of  the  infallible  Pope.  But  a  mere 
popular  movement  would  not  suffice  for  his  deification. 
It   was   needful  that   the  old  institutions  should   be 


60  CONTEMPORAR  Y  POR TRAITS. 

abolished,  in  order  that  an  all-absorbing  centralisation 
should  be  set  up.  Until  our  day,  Catholicism,  while 
preserving  its  unity,  had  still  granted  a  certain 
latitude  to  national  Churches.  They  had  their  general 
assemblies  or  Councils,  their  liturgy,  and  an  episco- 
pate which  reconciled  subordination  to  the  papacy, 
with  a  measure  of  independence  and  an  authority  that 
made  itself  felt  and  respected.  Now  all  this  is  changed. 
We  cannot  follow  out  in  detail  the  steps  taken 
by  the  Roman  policy  to  reach  this  important  result, 
which  is  equivalent  to  nothing  less  than  a  revo- 
lution in  the  institutions  of  the  Church.  The  Curia 
contrived  to  substitute  in  all  the  countries  of  Europe, 
mere  provincial  Councils  for  the  old  national  Councils 
which  have  everywhere  fallen  into  disuse.  It  was 
very  easy  to  over-rule  these  provincial  Councils  and 
to  lead  them  to  vote  in  the  desired  direction,  all 
the  more  that  a  special  congregation  was  constituted 
at  Rome  for  the  purpose,  which  took  upon  itself  to 
arrange  the  business  of  these  Councils,  and  even  to 
modify  their  resolutions,  so  that  they  were  made, 
without  their  own  consent,  to  acquiesce  in  the  opinion 
of  the  infallible  pontiff.  It  is  easy  to  arrive  at  an 
understanding  in  a  dialogue,  in  which  the  interlocutor 
and  the  respondent  are  one  and  the  same.  The 
Roman  Curia  was  equally  successful  on  the  question 
of  liturgies.  This  was  of  the  utmost  importance  to  it, 
for  it  would  be  impossible  to  exaggerate  the  influence 
of  liturgies,  which  give  to  piety  its  popular  form,  sur- 


THE  ANTECEDENTS  OF  THE  VATICAN  COUNCIL.     61 

rounding  it  with  a  moral  atmosphere  which  it  is 
unable  to  resist.  In  France  the  Roman  Curia  was 
ably  served  by  the  celebrated  Dom  Gueranger,  to 
whom  we  owe  the  restoration  of  the  Benedictine 
order.  Pius  IX.  devoted  his  Encyclical  of  1853  to  this 
cause,  which  he  rightly  had  at  heart,  and  the  Curia  has 
recently  succeeded,  in  spite  of  prolonged  resistance, 
in  substituting  everywhere  the  Roman  liturgy  for  the 
beautiful  liturgy  of  the  Church  of  France,  which  was 
not  defaced  by  the  ridiculous  fables  of  Italian  bigotry. 
Lacordaire  said  bitterly  of  this  daring  attempt,  even 
before  it  had  succeeded  :  "It  is  a  cruel  insult  to  a 
Church  which  has  never  severed  itself  from  the  general 
community." 

After  gaining  a  complete  ascendancy  over  the 
episcopal  assemblies,  it  was  not  difficult  to  bring  the 
bishops  separately  into  submission.  This  was  quickly 
done.  The  Roman  party  exalted  to  the  clouds  the 
prelates  who  boldly  resisted  the  civil  power,  even 
when  their  conduct  was  most  reckless  and  ill  advised. 
When  their  extravagancies  drew  down  the  just 
vengeance  of  the  State,  they  were  proclaimed  mar- 
tyrs. The  famous  Archbishop  of  Cologne,  Mgr.  Von 
Droste-Vischering,  who  compelled  the  Prussian  Go- 
vernment to  deviate  from  its  long  course  of  toleration, 
by  his  unjustifiable  resistance  to  every  measure  of 
conciliation  in  the  case  of  mixed  marriages,  and  by 
his  irritating  demeanour,  was  placed  on  a  par  with 
the  first  Christian  confessors  of  the  faith.   Archbishop 


62  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

Vicari,  of  Fribourg,  was  declared  in  his  lifetime 
worthy  of  canonisation,  for  having  disturbed  the 
Grand  Duchy  of  Baden  by  his  imprudent  proceed- 
ings. To  violate  the  laws  of  the  State  is  a  merit  in 
the  eyes  of  the  Roman  party.  Woe  to  the  bishop  who 
does  not  bend  under  the  yoke,  and  who  dares  to  offer 
any  opposition  to  the  fiat  of  the  Curia.  The  illus- 
trious Wissemberg  knew  something  of  this  in  his 
diocese  of  Constance,  where  he  had  secured  universal 
respect  by  his  toleration,  his  piety,  his  learning,  and 
his  noble  liberality.  His  nomination  as  bishop  was 
not  confirmed  ;  he  died  after  having  had  the  sorrow 
of  seeing  his  diocese  broken  up,  in  order  that  Catholic 
Switzerland  might  be  freed  from  an  influence  so 
much  dreaded  as  his.  Subsequently  the  liberal  and 
learned  school  of  Munich  was  loaded  with  outrages. 
Cardinal  Andrea,  for  having  desired  to  prolong  his 
stay  there,  was  severely  condemned  in  a  pontifical 
brief,  which  declared  that  the  Pope  had  the  power  of 
governing  directly  all  the  dioceses.  The  Archbishop 
of  Paris,  Mgr.  Darboy,  complained  to  Rome  of  the 
denunciations  to  which  he  was  subjected  by  his  sub- 
ordinates ;  he  was  even  obliged  in  one  case  to  adopt 
a  measure  of  very  mild  discipline.  The  Holy  See 
openly  censured  him,  thus  humbling  him  before  all 
his  clergy.  The  Bishops  of  Marseilles  and  of  Chalon 
were  severely  blamed  for  showing  some  Gallican  pro- 
clivities. The  papacy  made  it  evident  on  every 
opportunity,  that  it  intended  to  have  at  the  head  of 


THE  ANTECEDENTS  OF  THE  VATICAN  COUNCIL.     63 

the  dioceses,  not  bishops,  but  mere  ecclesiastical  pre- 
fects, whose  office  was  simply  to  transmit  the  papal 
behests. 

The  Ultramontane  party  looks  with  suspicion  on 
men  of  science.  It  never  rested  till  it  had  thrown 
discredit  on  the  teaching  of  theology  in  the  German 
Universities.  What  it  required  was  the  hotbed  of  a 
seminary  closed  against  general  culture,  and  it  had 
no  confidence  in  any  colleges  which  were  not  under 
its  own  special  supervision.  Hence  every  effort 
was  made  to  induce  young  men  preparing  for  the 
clerical  office,  to  attend  the  famous  Roman  College, 
which  it  supplemented  by  the  Germanic  College,  in 
which  the  same  doctrines  were  instilled.  "  Distrust 
learned  men,"  said  one  of  the  leaders  of  Ultramontan- 
ism.  Nor  was  it  deemed  enough  to  seek  to  inspire 
distrust  ;  scholars  were  condemned  when,  without 
going  beyond  the  bounds  of  orthodoxy,  they  mani- 
fested some  independence  of  spirit,  like  Dr.  Hermes 
at  Cologne,  and  Dr.  Dollinger  at  Munich.  All  that 
was  foreign  to  the  scholarship  of  mediaeval  times,  all 
that  revealed  some  development  of  the  philosophic 
spirit,  though  it  might  be  in  the  service  of  accepted 
truths,  was  regarded  as  dangerous.  Ignorance  became 
increasingly  a  title  to  favour,  and  to  the  old  theological 
virtues  was  added  a  new  virtue,  which  consisted  in 
ignorance  of  theology.  How  many  fine  intellects 
may  have  groaned  and  suffered  under  this  cruel  pres- 
sure !     How  many  noble  hearts  may  have   bled  in 


64  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

secret,  as  they  saw  the  babblings  of  ignorance  accepted 
as  the  wisdom  of  God,  and  all  original  development 
of  religious  thought,  in  an  age  of  research  like  this, 
repressed  by  a  petty  and  jealous  authority  !  The  true 
martyrs  of  our  time  are  not  the  imprudent  agitators 
who,  under  a  government  so  moderate  as  that  of 
Germany  before  its  Prussian  unification,  were  pun- 
ished for  having  disturbed  civil  order  by  their  fana- 
ticism ;  they  are  such  men  as  Gratry,  Lacordaire, 
Dollinger,  Haefel,  all  misunderstood  by  the  Church  to 
which  they  were  devoted,  all  regarded  with  suspicion, 
if  not  treated  with  severity,  because  they  would  not 
cringe  with  the  ignorant  multitude,  or  with  the  men 
of  servile  soul  in  high  positions  who  only  rise  by 
flattery.  Theirs  was  a  very  poignant  suffering,  more 
than  once  involuntarily  betrayed. 

It  was  not  enough  to  depreciate  the  science  of  the 
day  ;  it  was  needful  also  to  efface  from  the  documents 
of  the  past,  everything  that  was  at  variance  with  the 
new  doctrine,  the  triumph  of  which  the  papal  party  was 
bent  on  securing.  The  scribes  of  the  Curia  had  always 
shown  singular  audacity  in  forging  documents  in  sup- 
port of  their  favourite  theories.  The  False  Decretals 
had  shown  how  far  they  would  venture  in  this  sort  of 
historic  fraud.  Much  was  said  at  the  time  of  the  Council, 
of  their  manipulations  of  the  Roman  Breviary,  in  the 
attempt  to  efface  from  the  original  text  the  name 
of  Pope  Honorius,  who  was  there  distinctly  described 
as  a  heretic.      It  was  on  this  occasion  that  Father 


THE  ANTECEDENTS  OF  THE  VATICAN  COUNCIL.     65 

Gratry  denounced,  with  such  eloquent  indignation,  this 
interpolating  and  mendacious  school,  exclaiming, 
"  Indiget  Deus  mendacio  vestro  !  This  habit  of  using 
a  dishonest  apology,  is  one  of  the  causes  of  our  deca- 
dence in  modern  times.  So  soon  as  mankind  per- 
ceives in  an  apostle  the  faintest  trace  of  cunning  or 
duplicity,  it  turns  away  disgusted.  Is  not  the  time 
then  come,  in  this  age  of  publicity,  in  which  everything 
is  known  and  spread  abroad,  to  reject  with  scorn  the 
frauds,  interpolations,  and  mutilations,  which  liars 
and  falsifiers  of  documents — our  most  cruel  enemies 
— have  introduced  into  the  archives  of  the  Church  ? 
I  have  been  long  before  I  could  bring  myself  to 
believe  in  the  existence  among  us,  of  this  apology 
of  ignorance,  of  blindness,  of  dubious  or  even  of  bad 
faith,  which  seeks  an  end  in  the  goodness  and  truth 
of  which  it  believes,  but  in  order  to  reach  it  has 
recourse  to  fraud  and  to  the  fabrication  of  false  docu- 
ments." "  We  shall  be  told  that  Father  Gratry  made 
his  submission  to  the  Council.  We  admit  it ;  but  has 
he  therefore  retracted  his  severe  diatribe  against  the 
school  of  interpolation  and  historic  falsehood  ?  He 
never  thought  that  the  infallibility  of  the  Holy  Father 
implied  the  impeccability  of  Roman  scribes.  Friederich 
gives  overwhelming  evidence  of  the  manipulations  to 
which  they  have  subjected,  not  only  the  old  writers, 
whom  the  congregation  of  the  Index  assumed  the 


Letter  to  the  Bishop  of  Mechlin,  by  Father  Gratry,  p.  160. 
6 


66  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

right  to  correct,  but  also  catechisms  and  theological 
manuals  long  in  use,  even  those  which  bore  the 
authors'  names,  like  that  of  Bailly.  No  scruple  has 
been  shown  in  substituting  for  declarations  of  a  de- 
cided Gallican  character,  some  of  the  most  daring 
formularies  of  Ultramontanism. 

The  attempt  at  interpolation  and  falsification  is, 
however,  a  very  futile  one ;  there  still  remain  too  large 
a  number  of  passages  which  cannot  be  so  manipulated. 
Nor  is  it  possible  to  efface  the  general  tradition  of  the 
Church,  and  all  the  imperishable  monuments  of  its 
glorious  past.  The  great  book  of  history  cannot  be 
completely  falsified.  If  we  adhere  to  the  old  notion 
of  dogmatic  authority,  as  formulated  by  Vincent  de 
Lerins,  according  to  which  a  doctrine  is  only  to  be 
regarded  as  true  if  it  has  been  believed  always,  every- 
where, and  by  every  one  in  the  Church — ab  omnibus, 
ubiqiie  et  semper — then  the  favourite  doctrines  of  the 
Roman  party  are  doomed,  for  not  one  of  them  can 
claim  universal  assent.  Further,  if  all  depends  on 
the  verification  of  tradition,  the  Councils  assume  very 
grave  importance,  since  they  alone  are  capable  of 
verifying  it  by  means  of  the  bishops,  who  are,  as  it 
were,  the  witnesses  of  the  universal  Church,  to  declare 
that  which  has  been  the  object  of  its  constant  faith. 
The  Roman  system  crumbles  to  its  base,  if  we 
admit  the  theory  of  tradition  now  under  discussion  ; 
but  this  was  unquestionably  the  raison  d'etre  of 
general    Councils   in    the   past.      Hence  the  Roman 


THE  ANTECEDENTS  OF  THE  VATICAN  COUNCIL.     67 

party  has  endeavoured,  with  consummate  art  and 
with  extraordinary  subtlety,  to  remove  this  idea. 
Two  French  Ultramontane  theologians — Donnet  and 
Gousset  —  had  already  prepared  the  way  for  the 
new  theory,  by  placing  on  a  par  with  tradition,  as 
a  criterion  of  the  truth  of  a  doctrine,  the  unanimity 
of  the  bishops  of  the  day.  This  unanimity  is  all  the 
more  easy  to  secure  since  the  silence  of  the  episcopate 
is  taken  for  consent,  and  every  brief  which  is  not  pro- 
tested is  regarded  as  accepted.  It  was  the  Jesuit 
Perrone,  the  classic  theologian  of  the  present  Curia, 
who  had  the  honour  of  inventing  a  formula  destined 
to  be  so  useful.  According  to  him,  we  must  be  on 
our  guard  against  supposing  that  tradition  is  only  to 
be  found  in  the  positive  texts  of  Scripture,  or  of  the 
Fathers  ;  it  may  also  be  implicitly  contained  therein. 
A  few  vague  indications  suffice  to  denote  it,  especially 
if  we  do  not  neglect  the  spontaneous  manifestations 
of  religious  feeling  in  the  worship,  the  liturgy,  and 
the  literature  of  asceticism.  An  isolated  contradiction 
proves  nothing,  for  it  is  to  the  general  sentiment  of 
the  Church  that  our  appeal  must  be  made.  And  where 
does  this  general  sentiment  express  itself  more  forcibly 
than  in  the  unanimous  testimony  of  the  living  Church? 
Under  the  influence  of  the  Divine  Spirit  it  raises 
from  obscurity  some  doctrine  which  had  lain,  as  it 
were,  buried  in  the  tradition.  By  bringing  it  to  light, 
the  living  Church  proves  at  the  same  time  its  an- 
tiquity, so  that  we  are  saved  from  all  the  difficulties 


68  CONTEMPORAR  Y  PORTRAITS. 

that  a  critical  examination  of  the  text  might  present. 
Thus  is  fulfilled  the  desire  of  Cardinal  Manning,  that 
the  Council  should  shake  off  the  trammels  of  history. 
It  may  indeed  be  said  that  history  is  cast  aside  by 
this  new  definition  of  tradition,  which  gives  carte 
blanche  to  all  the  wildest  innovations,  provided  they 
secure  the  assent  of  a  servile  episcopate.  In  truth,  this 
theory  of  tradition  was  the  most  revolutionary  system 
imaginable,  for  it  gave  unlimited  scope  to  an  arbitrary 
dogmatism.  This  assent  of  the  bench  of  bishops  was 
nothing  else  than  universal  suffrage  without  inde- 
pendence, carried  on  in  the  dark  by  an  absolute 
power,  intoxicated  with  the  incense  of  idolatry.  Thus 
the  vaulting  ambition  of  the  hierarchy  has  overleaped 
itself,  and  it  has  become  the  mere  stepping-stone  of 
an  autocracy. 

IV. 

Throughout  the  whole  skilful  policy  of  the  Roman 
Curia,  we  recognise  the  influence  of  that  famous 
school  which,  for  three  centuries,  has  contrived  to 
combine  the  most  rigid  principles  of  absolute  autho- 
rity, with  the  utmost  suppleness  in  the  adaptation 
of  means  to  ends.  The  Jesuit  has  governed  the 
Church  for  more  than  half  a  century.  He  would 
not,  however,  left  to  himself,  have  so  rapidly  attained 
his  end,  but  he  had  the  good  fortune  to  find  the  very 
Pope  he  needed  to  strike  the  great  blow  ;  and  from 
that  time  it  has  been  no  longer  necessary  for  him^to 


THE  ANTECEDENTS  OF  THE  VATICAN  COUNCIL.     69 

advance,  as  Consalvi  said,  by  oblique  paths.     He  can 
march  boldly,  with  head  erect,  along  the  Corso. 

We  would  speak  with  the  utmost  respect  of  the 
old  Pope  who  played  the  principal  part  in  this 
triumphant  campaign  of  Ultramontanism.  Fully 
convinced  of  his  mission,  he  believed  himself  called 
to  be  the  instrument  of  God  to  assure  the  triumph 
of  His  cause,  by  consecrating,  in  his  own  person, 
papal  infallibility.  Rising  above  all  narrow  and 
petty  ambition,  animated  by  an  enthusiasm  which 
recognised  no  obstacle  and  could  brook  no  delay,  he 
regarded  his  own  elevation  as  a  duty,  and  treated  as 
impious  rebellion  all  resistance  to  his  deification. 
That  which  in  another  would  have  been  fanatic  pride, 
was  in  him  the  fervour  of  piety.  Ignorant  of  theology, 
he  was  not  stumbled  by  any  historic  difficulties  de- 
rived from  the  tradition  of  the  early  Church.  The 
prudence  which  calculates  the  perils  of  an  immediate 
decision  would  have  seemed  to  him  the  abandonment 
of  his  faith  in  God — that  is,  in  himself ;  for  he  never 
ceased  to  regard  himself  as  the  organ  of  absolute 
truth.  His  virtues,  worthy  of  all  respect,  the  majesty 
of  his  language  rising  sometimes  almost  to  an  inspired 
tone,  his  noble  countenance  beneath  snowy  locks — all 
these  things  combined  to  increase  his  ascendancy. 
Pius  IX.  was  all  the  more  ardent  in  his  opposition  to 
modern  ideas,  because  at  the  commencement  of  his 
reign  he  had  given  them  some  encouragement.  It 
seemed  as  if  in  him  the  liberal  Catholicism  of  Lacor- 


70  CONTEMPORARY  PORTRAITS. 

daire  and  Montalembert  had  received  the  tiara,  and 
men  thought  that  the  reconciliation  between  the 
Church  and  the  laity  would  soon  be  accomplished. 
But  from  the  time  of  his  exile  in  Gaeta,  Pius  IX. 
belonged  unreservedly  to  the  extreme  party,  and  the 
Jesuits  whom  he  had  expelled  were  henceforth  his 
counsellors  and  guides.  He  became  more  and  more 
convinced  of  his  Divine  mission.  The  Civilta  Catto- 
lica  recalled  complacently  the  predictions  uttered  with 
regard  to  him  by  Anna  Maria  Taigi,  a  holy  woman 
universally  revered  in  Rome,  who  declared  before  her 
death  that  he  would  be  the  Pope  chosen  to  restore 
the  Church.  The  Virgin  of  La  Salette,  whose  appari- 
tion was  declared  at  Rome  to  be  genuine,  proclaimed 
the  new  dogma.  The  growing  idolatry  of  which  Pius 
IX.  was  the  object,  made  him  believe  that  he  could 
venture  anything.  Had  not  his  name  been  put  in  the 
place  of  the  name  of  God  in  a  hymn,  to  the  great  in- 
dignation of  Mgr.  Dupanloup  ?  A  French  Cardinal  had 
called  him  "the  incarnation  of  the  authority  of  Christ." 
The  Civilta  Cattolica  went  so  far  as  to  declare  that 
the  Word  thought  through  him.  He  heard  himself 
proclaimed  Divine  till  he  believed  it,  and  did  not  fear 
to  be  identified  with  Christ.  La  tradition  c'est  moi, 
he  said  to  those  who  had  the  indiscretion  to  appeal  to 
history.  In  such  a  state  of  mind,  he  could  not  hesi- 
tate to  employ  decisive  means  to  arrive  at  the  defini- 
tion of  the  new  dogma.  His  long  reign  enabled  him 
to  remodel  almost  entirely  the  College  of  Cardinals 


THE  ANTECEDENTS  OF  THE  VATICAN  COUNCIL.     71 

and  the  Bench  of  Bishops,  by  nominating  only  de- 
clared adherents  of  the  Ultramontane  school.  His 
briefs  and  sermons  were  powerful  weapons  against 
his  opponents,  who  were  intimidated  by  his  prestige 
and  authority.  The  Encyclical  and  the  Syllabus 
of  1864  were  the  manifesto  of  triumphant  Ultra- 
montanism.  It  had  already  won  one  decisive  victory 
in  the  great  episcopal  Assembly  of  1854,  which 
issued  the  proclamation  of  the  Immaculate  Concep- 
tion. If  M.  Thiers  could  say  after  the  review  of 
Satory  in  January,  185 1,  L Empire  est  fait \  it  might 
be  said  with  equal  truth,  after  this  important  act  of 
the  Council,  that  infallibility  had  gained  the  day. 
What  was  wanting  to  the  elevation  of  the  Holy  Father 
above  all  Councils,  when  once  he  had  been  able  with- 
out a  Council,  by  a  simple  consultation  with  the 
bishops,  to  create  a  new  dogma  ?  This  new  dogma 
had  done  more  than  deify  the  Virgin  ;  it  had  made  a 
God  upon  earth.  The  Ultramontane  party  took  ad- 
vantage of  this  unexampled  innovation,  and  deduced 
from  the  thing  done,  the  right  to  do  it.  The  great 
assembly  of  bishops  convoked  at  Rome  in  1864, 
hailed  the  Holy  Father  in  language  of  such  ardent 
adoration,  that  it  lacked  nothing  but  the  precision  of  a 
formulary.  In  i860,  at  the  time  of  the  celebration  of 
the. centenary  of  the  martyrdom  of  St.  Peter  and  St. 
Paul,  the  bishops  responded  in  still  larger  numbers 
to  the  appeal  of  the  Holy  Father,  who,  after  thanking 
them  for  having  shown  by  their  presence  in  Rome 


72  CONTEMPORARY  PORTRAITS. 

their  filial  subordination  to  the  Holy  See,  announced 
to  them  the  approaching  Council.  The  address, 
which  was  drawn  up  in  their  name,  and  which  passed 
without  protestation,  because  it  was  imagined  to  be  a 
matter  of  no  consequence,  since  the  address  was  not 
a  doctrinal  one,  was  dictated  by  devotees  of  the 
papacy,  and  contained  homage,  barely  disguised  under 
oratorical  paraphrases,  of  the  infallible  Pope.     * 

Even  before  they  quitted  Rome  the  bull  convoking 
the  Council  was  issued.  The  Roman  Curia  was  care- 
ful to  choose  as  advisers,  only  theologians,  already 
pledged  to  extreme  Ultramontane  views,  and  for 
the  most  part  obscure  individuals.  It  refused  the 
titulary  bishops  the  right  of  being  represented  in 
Council,  while  it  opened  the  doors  to  a  thousand 
bishops  of  the  Propaganda  who  had  no  dioceses. 
These  docile  creatures  of  the  papacy  assured  it  before- 
hand of  a  majority. 

One  is  amazed,  after  such  preliminaries,  at  the 
illusions  by  which  the  opponents  of  the  new  dogma 
still  calmed  their  apprehensions.  Those  who  had 
the  good  fortune  to  be  at  Rome  in  1869,  will  never 
forget  the  extraordinary  agitation  of  mind  prevailing 
on  the  eve  of  the  Vatican  Council ;  it  was  more  like 
the  excitement  in  one  of  our  political  clubs  at  the 
opening  of  a  critical  session  of  parliament.  The 
salons  in  which  Ultramontane  principles  did  not  hold 
undisputed  sway,  re-echoed  with  animated  discussions 
and    passionate    protestations   against    the    extreme 


THE  ANTECEDENTS  OF  THE  VATICAN  COUNCIL.     73 

party,  which  they  hoped  yet  to  be  able  to  restrain. 
We  well  remember  the  boldness  of  certain  declarations, 
which  would  now  greatly  astonish  those  who  then 
made  them,  and  who  have  since  done  all  in  their  power 
to  obliterate  them.  "  If  the  Council  turns  out  badly, 
we  will  agitate  for  another,"  said  a  distinguished  repre- 
sentative of  the  Catholic  aristocracy,  one  evening  in 
a  large  company.  The  women  were  not  the  least 
ardent  supporters  of  the  Left,  in  this  Vatican 
Assembly,  which  had  all  the  semblance  of  a  real 
ecclesiastical  parliament  The  opposition  had  on 
its  side  men  of  science  and  distinction,  who  had 
rendered  incomparable  service  to  the  Church,  the 
very  elite  of  the  episcopate  throughout  the  world. 
Its  manifesto  was  contained  in  the  last  charge  of 
the  Bishop  of  Orleans,  and  in  the  resolution  of  the 
German  bishops  assembled  at  Fulda,  to  enter  a  pru- 
dent protest  against  the  proclamation  of  the  new 
dogma.  The  leading  men  among  the  German 
bishops  appeared  in  the  Roman  sa/ons.  There  was 
seen  the  noble  face  of  Cardinal  Schwartzenberg, 
who,  having  concluded  the  Austrian  Concordat,  had 
vowed  never  to  do  anything  of  the  kind  again.  The 
Hungarian  bishops,  distinguished  for  their  courage 
and  eloquence,  excited  much  curious  interest.  Catho- 
lic England  had  only  sent  extreme  Ultramontanes 
to  sit  in  the  Council.  It  had,  however,  in  Rome  one 
of  the  most  generous  representatives  of  liberal  Catho- 
licism— Lord  Acton — whom  Mr.  Gladstone  had  just 


74  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

raised  to  the  peerage.  He  displayed  great  activity 
in  the  service  of  his  cause,  and  was  very  hopeful,  if 
not  of  securing  its  triumph,  at  least  of  averting  a 
decisive  defeat.  All  these  hopes  were  vain  ;  the 
whole  opposition  was  to  fail  miserably,  without  having 
succeeded  in  coming  even  to  a  serious  encounter ;  for, 
as  the  Jesuit  Perrone  has  said  very  candidly, "  All  was 
ready,  and  nothing  was  wanting  but  the  solemn  pro- 
clamation of  July  1 8,  1870." 

Must  we  suppose  that  the  proclamation  of  the  new 
dogma  will  really  be  accepted  by  Catholicism  as  a 
final  solution  ?  We  think  not.  We  know  that 
beneath  the  unreal  appearance  of  unity,  there  are 
many  consciences  suffering  and  protesting  in  silence. 
There  have  been  submissions,  which  have  cost  the 
lives  of  the  noble  thinkers  who  bowed  beneath  the  arm 
of  authority,  because  they  were  not  ripe  for  the  final 
decision  which  would  have  severed  them  from  their 
Church.  We  are  not  building  the  smallest  hope  of  a 
religious  renovation  upon  the  new  Pope.  He  may  be 
more  moderate  than  Pius  IX.  in  the  form  of  his  lan- 
guage and  in  his  political  attitude  ;  but  he  cannot 
repudiate  the  heritage  which  has  been  transmitted  to 
him.  The  fall  of  the  temporal  power  will  also  have 
for  a  long  time,  the  immediate  effect  of  exalting 
Ultramontanism,  as  the  destruction  of  the  temple  at 
Jerusalem  enflamed  Jewish  fanaticism,  which  clung 
all  the  more  closely  to  its  religious  idea,  as  that,  in  a 
manner,  lost  ground.     If  the  extreme  school  should 


THE  ANTECEDENTS  OF  THE  VATICAN  COUNCIL.    75 

continue  its  development  among  the  Catholics  of  to- 
day, it  will  in  the  end  so  isolate  itself  from  modern 
society,  that  it  will  become  a  mere  sect,  considerable 
indeed  in  numbers,  but  cut  off  from  the  general  life 
of  modern  humanity,  resembling  rather  the  Brahmin- 
ism  of  India,  which  lives  on  solitary  and  irate,  in  view 
of  a  country  renovated  by  civilisation.  We  believe, 
however,  that  in  time  the  loss  of  the  temporal  power 
will  have  the  effect  of  making  it  easier  for  hidden 
differences  to  manifest  themselves,  and  thus  in  the 
end  will  hasten  on  the  religious  crisis  which  is  brood- 
ing in  silence  to-day. 

May  governments  not  forget  that  they  could  not 
more  surely  strengthen  Qltramontanism  than  by 
applying  its  own  principles  for  its  persecution.  Every 
step  beyond  the  legitimate  defence  of  the  rights  ot 
the  State,  will  only  involve  the  civil  power  in  an 
interminable  struggle,  in  which  it  must  always  fight 
at  a  disadvantage.  Prussia  and  Switzerland  know 
something  of  this.  Let  us  keep  the  Catholic  Church 
strictly  within  its  own  domain.  Left  to  itself,  it  can- 
not escape  that  internal  conflict  which  will  either  end 
in  its  transformation,  or  in  the  application  of  the 
extreme  principles  of  Ultramontanism  to  modern 
society.  Having  reached  this  point,  it  will  inevitably 
fall  a  prey  to  the  avenging  spirit  of  error  born  of  its 
excesses,  the  unfailing  Nemesis  which  tracks  man- 
kind upon  its  devious  way. 


STRAUSS  AND   VOLTAIRE. 


STRAUSS  AND  VOLTAIRE. 

A   COMPARISON. 

GERMANY  has  for  the  last  few  years  devoted 
much  attention  to  Voltaire.  At  the  close  of 
the  eighteenth  century  its  preference  was  for  Rous- 
seau, whose  sentimental  deism  was  thoroughly  in 
harmony  with  the  tendencies  of  German  thought  at 
the  time,  as  expressed  in  the  noble  poetry  of  Schiller. 
At  the  present  day  Voltaire  is  in  the  ascendant. 
Goethe  is  known  to  have  regarded  him  as  represent- 
ing the  true  type  of  the  French  mind.  Dubois, 
Raymond,  Grimm,  Rosenkranz,  have  all  recently 
offered  criticisms  of  his  literary  and  scientific  work 
under  various  aspects.  And  lastly,  the  great  master 
of  the  critical  school,  Strauss,  has  reared  a  monument 
to  his  memory,  in  the  six  lectures  dedicated  to  the 
Princess  Alice — a  work  in  which  he  has  displayed  all 
his  analytical  talent  and  polemical  acumen.  It  is 
at  once  obvious  that  Strauss  did  not  intend  this 
to  be  a  mere  literary  study.  This  biography  of  Vol- 
taire was  a  valuable  weapon  for  him  in  the  war  to 
the  death,  which  he  had   declared   against   the   old 


80  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

ideas  of  religion  and  philosophy.  He  found  that 
there  was  still  much  use  to  be  made  of  his  glorious 
predecessor.  It  seems  to  us  very  interesting  to 
examine  this  judgment  of  Voltaire  pronounced  by 
Strauss,  and  to  show  how  far  the  two  writers  differ 
from  each  other,  while  both  appearing  to  serve  the 
same  cause  ;  how  much  generosity  is  hidden  under  the 
keen  raillery  of  the  older  writer,  in  contrast  to  the 
implacable  bitterness  of  the  author  of  the  "  Leben 
Jesu." 

We  are  fortunate  enough  to  possess  the  philoso- 
phical testament  of  Strauss  in  his  book,  "  Der  alte 
und  der  neue  Glaube."  Only  a  few  months  ago  there 
appeared  as  an  introduction  to  a  complete  edition  of 
his  works,  his  literary  autobiography,  in  which  he 
gives  us  his  own  account  of  the  development  of  his 
views. 

Lastly,  the  very  comprehensive  work  on  "  Strauss 
and  his  Times," l  published  by  Hausrath,  supplies  us 
with  many  valuable  documents.  We  are  thus  in  a 
position  to  draw  a  parallel,  which  is  not  merely  fanci- 
ful, between  these  two  great  controversialists,  since 
the  sources  of  information  about  Voltaire  are  ample. 
The  work  of  M.  Desnoiresterres,  on  the  Life  and 
Times  of  Voltaire,  is  almost  exhaustive.  We  shall  not 
attempt  to  decide  the  comparative  merits  of  the  great 

1  David  Friedrich  Strauss,  gesammelte  Schriften,  &c.  Bonn. 
D.  F.  Strauss  und  die  Theologie  seiner  Zeit.  Von  Dr.  A.  Hausrath, 
Heidelberg.     1876. 


STRAUSS  AND  VOLTAIRE.  81 

works  of  two  such  prolific  writers,  but  merely  endea- 
vour to  arrive  at  the  leading  thought  of  each.  This 
will  supply  the  key  to  the  difference  of  the  times  in 
which  they  lived,  and  will  enable  us  to  appreciate  the 
change  that  has  passed  over  religious  and  philo- 
sophical controversy  during  the  last  century. 

We  have  already  said  that  Strauss  loves  and  lauds 
in  Voltaire  that  which,  in  his  view,  forms  the  unity  of 
his  life  and  of  his  work,  namely,  his  vehement  hostility 
to  the  religion  of  the  past.  He  delights  to  picture 
him  polishing  his  weapons  for  the  attack,  immediately 
on  quitting  the  Jesuit  college,  where  he  had  learnt  to 
use  them  skilfully,  if  not  in  the  defence  of  the  faith  ; 
next  putting  a  still  keener  edge  to  his  wit  in  the 
society  of  the  "  Temple  ;  "  then,  in  his  exile  in 
London  (whither  his  first  escapades  had  driven  him), 
imbibing  from  contact  with  English  philosophy,  that 
sincere  but  superficial  deism  which  ever  afterwards 
characterised  him  ;  and  finally,  returning  matured, 
but  with  his  youthful  ardour  unchilled,  to  engage 
along  the  whole  line  in  what  he  calls  the  good  war- 
fare. All  means  subserve  his  ends  :  poetry,  simple  or 
severe,  the  pamphlet  or  the  ode,  science  or  history, 
all  are  engaged  in  a  great  pantomime,  in  which  the 
actors  utter  the  thoughts  of  their  author,  and  reflect 
his  genius  and  passion.  Through  all  his  restless  wan- 
derings over  Europe,  to-day  the  guest  in  a  castle,  to- 
morrow in  an  inn  ;  passing  from  Nancy  to  Potsdam, 
from    Potsdam    to   Geneva,   and   finally  to   Ferney, 

7 


82  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

which  becomes  the  holy  city  of  the  encyclopaedists, 
he  does  not  cease  for  a  day  to  obey  his  ruling  pas- 
sion. It  might  be  said  that  zeal  for  his  cause  con- 
sumed him.  He  himself  gives  us  the  epitome  of  his 
whole  literary  life  in  these  daring  words :  "  I  am 
weary  of  hearing  it  said  that  a  dozen  men  sufficed  to 
establish  Christianity.  I  long  to  show  that  one  man 
is  enough  to  destroy  it." 

Voltaire  is  not  satisfied  with  giving  currency  to  his 
ideas  by  his  writings,  which  circulate  all  the  more 
rapidly  because  they  are  proscribed,  and  have  thus  the 
inimitable  flavour  of  forbidden  fruit.  He  perpetually 
fans  the  zeal  of  those  whom  he  calls  his  brethren  ;  and 
his  vast  correspondence  travels  all  over  Europe  ani- 
mating and  directing  the  conflict.  He  wrote  as  many 
letters  as  Calvin,  who  was  also  a  great  army  leader. 
Both  lives  display  the  same  ardent,  universal  activity. 

With  Voltaire  passion  does  not  exclude  policy,  and 
if  he  covets  the  apostolate,  it  is  for  the  power  it 
bestows,  not  for  the  martyr's  palm.  "  I  am  a  warm 
friend  of  truth,"  he  writes  to  D'Alembert,  "  but  none 
at  all  of  martyrdom."  It  is  true  that  martyrdom  was 
no  metaphor  in  the  eighteenth  century,  and  that  the 
Parliament  which  had  the  writings  of  the  philoso- 
phers burnt  in  the  Place  de  Greve,  was  armed  with 
dangerous  powers  against  their  persons.  Voltaire 
did  all  that  he  could  to  escape  perils  which  were  not 
imaginary  ;  he  knew  the  Bastille,  for  he  had  lived  in 
it.     He  first  entered  on  a  course  of  clever  coquetry 


STRAUSS  AND  VOLTAIRE.  83 

with  the  great  ones  of  the  world.  In  spite  of  the 
fascination  of  his  graceful  wit,  he  had  small  success 
with  Louis  XV.,  who  must  have  been  a  prey  to  in- 
curable ennui,  since  even  Voltaire  could  not  laugh  him 
out  of  it.  His  indolent  egoism  shrank  instinctively 
from  this  great  agitator  of  ideas,  and  he  felt  vaguely 
that  under  his  influence,  the  deluge  which  was  to 
sweep  away  the  old  world  might  be  hastened  on  so 
as  to  come  in  his  days,  after  which  everything  was 
indifferent  to  him.  The  incomparable  flatterer  was 
more  successful  with  Madame  de  Pompadour,  and  he 
might  have  safely  counted  on  her  protection  but  for 
the  demon  of  epigram,  which  he  could  not  resist. 
This  weakness  of  his  was  so  well  known  that  some 
one  wittily  said  that,  in  signing  a  compact  with 
Voltaire,  there  should  always  be  a  provisional  clause, 
"save  and  excepting  his  vagaries."  The  precaution  was 
especially  necessary  in  those  unwritten  compacts  on 
which  social  relations  rest.  If  nothing  came  to  dis- 
turb the  friendship  which  he  always  showed  for  the 
great  Catherine,  it  was  because  he  was  never  brought 
into  too  close  contact  with  his  idol,  and  the  delicate 
incense  which  he  burned  to  her  always  rose  clear  into 
the  air,  from  a  safe  distance.  We  know  how  stormy 
were  his  relations  with  Frederic  II.  Strauss,  as  a 
good  subject  of  the  German  Empire,  and  observ- 
ing his  oath  of  fidelity  even  in  historical  retrospect, 
lays  most  of  the  blame  on  the  French  philosopher. 
Nothing  could  be  more  unjust.     Undoubtedly   Fre- 


84  CONTEMPORAR  Y  POR  TRAITS. 

deric  was  thoroughly  enamoured  of  the  spirit  of 
Voltaire  ;  but  how  tyrannical,  and  at  times  even 
cruel,  this  passion  was !  How  we  feel  always,  as  his 
victim  said,  that  even  in  his  sportive  moods,  the  claw 
of  the  leopard  was  ready  to  rend  him.  He  wished  to 
make  Voltaire  a  brilliant  plaything,  the  first  buffoon 
of  a  literary  court,  heavily  paid,  and  to  be  dismissed 
at  pleasure.  He  forgot  that  the  buffoon  was  a  rational 
being,  the  intellectual  monarch  of  his  age,  and  that 
he  also  had  his  claws,  which  could  leave  inefface- 
able scars.  "  He  is  a  terrible  interlocutor,"  said  Vol- 
taire again,  "  who  commands  hundreds  of  thousands 
of  men."  Doubtless  Voltaire  had  his  faults  ;  he  was 
somewhat  of  a  marplot  in  delicate  matters  ;  he  did 
not  sufficiently  consider  the  susceptibilities  of  his 
formidable  host  ;  he  pierced  his  friends  with  his 
keenest  darts.  But  Strauss  forgets  the  actual  treason 
of  which  Frederic  was  guilty,  when  in  order  to  bind 
Voltaire  to  himself  by  an  enforced  exile,  he  com- 
municated to.  the  French  authorities  a  compromising 
paper  of  Voltaire's,  which  had  been  entrusted  to  him 
under  seal  of  secresy. 

In  relation  to  the  affair  at  Frankfort,  the  German 
writer  also  shows  shameless  partiality.  The  odious 
prosecution  was,  according  to  Strauss,  a  mere  blunder 
chargeable  to  the  stupidity  of  underlings.  But  he 
cannot  erase  those  words  of  the  Prussian  Minister  to 
the  most  brutal  of  these  agents  :  "  Fear  nothing  ;  all 
has  been  done  by  order  of  the  king." 


STRAUSS  AND   VOLTAIRE.  85 

Nevertheless  Frederic  remains  a  great  prince.  His 
correspondence  with  Voltaire  at  the  time  of  his  most 
cruel  reverses,  when  Voltaire  asks  him  to  intervene  to 
make  peace,  redounds  to  the  honour  of  both.  They 
never  ceased  to  have  the  liveliest  relish  for  one 
another,  while  at  the  same  time  always  on  the  verge 
of  hatred.  Let  us  admit,  lastly,  that  Voltaire,  in  his 
correspondence  with  Frederic,  understood  how  to 
keep  up  the  dignity  of  a  man  of  letters,  and  that  his 
prudence  had  its  limits.  Strauss  is  fully  in  sympathy 
with  him  when  he  sees  him  displaying  the  craft  of  an 
old  pupil  of  the  Jesuits,  in  order  to  track  his  enemies. 
His  grand  device  was  perpetually  to  disavow  the 
authorship  of  writings  which  were  incontestably  his 
own.  "  So  soon  as  there  is  the  slightest  danger,"  he 
wrote  to  D'Alembert,  "  I  implore  you  to  warn  me  of 
it,  that  I  may  disavow  the  work  in  the  public  papers, 
with  my  accustomed  candour  and  innocence." 

When  he  was  bent  on  forcing  an  entrance  into  the 
French  Academy,  he  did  not  hesitate  to  take  the 
following  pledge  :  "  If  ever  a  page  has  been  printed  in 
my  name,  which  could  scandalise  the  priest  of  my 
parish,  I  am  ready  to  tear  it  to  pieces  in  his  pre- 
sence." Contemptible  as  this  craft  and  disingenu- 
ousness  seem  to  us,  we  must  feel  a  still  stronger 
indignation  against  that  detestable  system,  which 
degraded  thought  by  making  it  dangerous  to  give  free 
expression  to  it. 

We  can  make  no  allowance,  however,  for  Voltaire's 


86  CONTEMPORARY  PORTRAITS. 

spurious  acts  of  devotion.  When  he  cajoles  the  Holy 
Father  into  accepting  the  dedication  of  "  Mahomet "  to 
himself,  this  preliminary  of  infallibility  only  excites  a 
laugh.  But  we  feel  very  differently  when  we  see  the 
author  of  the  "  Dictionnaire  Philosophique  "  partaking 
of  the  Communion.  Strauss  is  very  little  shocked 
at  this.  He  is,  indeed,  quite  an  advocate  of  mental 
reservations  when  they  are  useful.  Before  the  brilliant 
success  of  his  "  Leben  Jesu,"  when  he  was  a  country 
pastor,  he  quieted  the  scruples  of  his  friend  Moerklin, 
who  found  it  somewhat  embarrassing  to  clothe  pan- 
theism in  Scripture  phraseology,  and  to  preach  to  the 
peasants  of  Wurtemburg  the  new  faith  under  the 
name  of  the  old  Bible.  One  of  Strauss'  favourite 
heroes  is  Reimarius,  whose  biography  he  has  written 
with  his  usual  ability.  This  father  of  rationalism  had 
given  expression  to  his  views  in  an  anonymous  manu- 
script which  was  only  published  after  his  death.  In 
the  meantime  he  appeared  every  Sunday  with  his 
white  cravat,  and  in  the  costume  of  an  ecclesiastical 
inspector,  to  listen  with  devout  attention  to  orthodox 
sermons,  at  which  he  was  laughing  in  his  sleeve. 
Strauss  is  not  at  all  offended  at  this  excessive  cau- 
tion. His  opinion  is  that  "  free-thinkers  should  avoid 
taking  part  in  religious  ceremonies,  as  far  as  they  can 
do  so  without  detriment  to  themselves  and  those  who 
belong  to  them."  This  prudent  morality  reminds  us 
of  a  famous  saying  about  the  angelic  silence  of  the 
priest-philosophers    who   continue  to    perform    mass. 


STRAUSS  AND   VOLTAIRE.  87 

One  would  hardly  have  expected  to  see  the  angels 
under  such  circumstances.  To  me  it  seems  that  the 
dignity  of  thought  is  much  better  represented  by 
Pascal's  saying  :  "  Never  have  the  saints  been  silent." 

Strauss  himself  has  been  under  no  temptation  to 
use  such  subterfuges.  He  has  lived  in  a  time  of  free 
thought  and  free  speech,  at  least  on  all  matters  re- 
lating to  metaphysics  and  criticism.  This  freedom  is 
only  restricted  when  politicians  attempt  to  meddle 
with  religion.  The  well-known  caution  given  by  the 
Lausanne  magistrate  to  Voltaire,  is  still  applicable 
in  the  middle  of  the  nineteenth  century.  "  It  is  a 
hundred  times  less  dangerous,"  he  said,  "  to  attack 
the  Holy  Trinity  than  to  criticise  our  authorities 
at  Berne,"  or  as  we  might  say  to-day,  at  Berlin 
and  elsewhere.  Strauss  has  observed  this  caution. 
Nothing  could  equal  his  theological  radicalism  except 
his  political  conservatism. 

His  "  Leben  Jesu  "  was  allowed  to  circulate  without 
interference,  in  spite  of  the  grave  attack  it  made  upon 
the  old  beliefs  ;  for,  as  Edgar  Quinet  has  shrewdly 
observed,  Strauss,  in  this  famous  book,  only  acted  the 
part  of  Anthony,  drawing  back  Caesar's  robe  to  reveal 
all  the  thrusts  that  had  been  made  upon  him ;  he  only 
rent  the  veil  beneath  which,  for  more  than  half  a 
century,  German  criticism  had  been  striking  at  his- 
toric Christianity.  For  the  first  moment  considerable 
excitement  was  created  by  the  marvellous  clearness 
of  the  exposition,  and  the  art  with  which  the  writer 


88  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRA ITS. 

brought  into  prominence  the  contradictions  of  the 
sacred  narratives.  At  this  time  he  was  still  righting 
under  the  banner  of  Hegelian  idealism ;  but  gradually 
his  thoughts  emerged  from  this  cloud  which  only 
veiled  the  great  void.  He  ended  by  using  to  that 
God,  who  was  a  mere  idea,  the  same  language  in 
which  Voltaire  had  made  Spinaye  address  his  imper- 
sonal deity :  "  Between  ourselves,  I  really  believe  you 
have  no  existence."  The  most  absolute  atheism  is 
the  issue  of  the  new  faith.  After  having  formulated 
it,  the  old  doctor  intones  his  "Nunc  Dimittis."  His 
version  of  Simeon's  song  may  be  given  thus  :  "  O 
great  All !  O  vast  Nature,  from  which  I  have 
driven  out  the  Divine !  Now  mayest  thou  let  thy 
servant  depart  in  peace,  for  I  have  left  nothing  more 
to  be  destroyed."  But  he  was  mistaken.  Positivism 
reproaches  him,  not  without  bitterness,  for  that 
chimera  of  the  great  All,  which  still  has  some  sem- 
blance of  the  Absolute.  This  is  a  point  very  far 
beyond  the  deism  of  Voltaire. 

It  is  true  that  the  deism  to  which  he  always  re- 
mained faithful  will  not  hold  as  a  system.  It  is  very 
interesting  to  read  Strauss'  estimate  of  the  Voltairean 
philosophy.  He  shows  at  once  that  it  is  full  of  con- 
tradiction. Voltaire  has  no  definite  opinion  about 
moral  freedom  ;  he  does  not  even  express  himself 
clearly  about  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  though  he 
always  believed  in  it.  With  his  pessimist  views  of 
history,  which   seemed  to   him    a   medley  of  errors, 


STRAUSS  AND  VOLTAIRE.  $g 

follies  and  misfortunes,  he  did  not  know  what  to 
make  of  the  God  whom  he  did  retain.  "  The  good 
Oromaze,"  he  said,  "who  has  done  all,  could  not  do 
better."  The  Almighty  Author  who  had  given  to  the 
world  so  faulty  a  performance  would  deserve  rather 
to  be  hissed  than  worshipped. 

Voltaire  gave  a  true  resume  of  his  metaphysics  in 
these  words  :  "  For  myself,  I  am  sure  of  nothing.  I 
believe  that  there  is  an  ■  intelligence,  a  creative  power, 
a  God.  I  express  an  opinion  to-day  ;  I  doubt  of  it 
to-morrow ;  the  day  after  I  repudiate  it.  All  honest 
philosophers  have  confessed  to  me,  when  they  were 
warmed  with  wine,  that  the  great  Being  has  not  given 
to  them  one  particle  more  evidence  than  to  me."  It 
must  be  admitted  that  the  mind  of  Voltaire,  keen  and 
supple  as  it  was,  was  not  capable  of  rising  higher  than 
the  refinements  of  a  brilliant  society,  and  could  not 
comprehend  the  grand  poetry  of  the  Bible,  any  more 
than  he  could  comprehend  Shakspeare.  He  could 
see  nothing  but  lying  or  trickery  in  those  great  per- 
turbations of  the  human  conscience,  out  of  which 
religion  has  been  born.  He  lacked  entirely  the  true 
spirit  of  criticism,  which  is  not  content  with  grasping 
the  superficial  and  grotesque,  but  seeks  to  reach, 
through  these,  the  underlying  verities.  In  this  fea- 
ture of  his  mental  habit,  he  was  at  the  very  antipodes 
of  the  nineteenth  century,  which  has  a  magic  wand  to 
call  up  the  past,  whether  from  the  recesses  of  the 
pyramids,  or  from  the  sacred  books  to  whose  hiero- 


90  CONTEMPORARY  PORTRAITS. 

glyphics  the  science  of  our  day  has  supplied  the 
key. 

How,  then,  are  we  to  account  for  the  fact  that  with 
so  meagre  a  philosophy,  Voltaire  exerted  an  influence 
incomparably  greater  than  that  of  the  learned  German 
doctor,  and  that  in  many  directions  that  influence  is 
felt  even  now  ?  It  is  interesting  to  trace  the  causes 
of  this  superior  power,  as  we  follow  out  the  parallel 
between  him  and  his  biographer. 

It  is  needless  to  enlarge  upon  his  inimitable  style 
of  writing.  Strauss'  style  is  also  very  remarkable, 
and  so  luminous  is  his  exposition  that  on  the  most 
abstruse  questions  of  criticism,  he  casts  a  flood  of 
light.  He  understands  the  art  of  bookmaking — a 
rare  accomplishment  in  Germany  at  the  time  when  he 
began  to  write.  We  often  feel  a  concentrated  passion 
thrilling  through  his  somewhat  tame  language.  But 
there  is  no  one,  even  on  the  other  side  the  Rhine, 
who  would  dare  to  compare  him  to  the  French 
magician.  The  clearness  of  Voltaire's  style  reminds 
one  of  a  rather  low  sky,  which  lights  up  every  object 
without  dazzling  the  eye.  Now  humorous,  now 
eloquent,  his  vivacity  never  flags.  Grimm  said  of 
him  :  "  He  makes  arrows  of  every  kind  of  wood,  bril- 
liant and  rapid  in  their  flight,  but  with  a  keen,  unerring 
point.  Under  his  sparkling  pen,  erudition  ceases  to  be 
ponderous  and  becomes  full  of  life.  If  he  cannot  sweep 
the  grand  chords  of  the  lyre,  he  can  strike  on  golden 
medals  his  favourite  maxims,  and  is  unapproachable 


STRAUSS  AND  VOLTAIRE.  91 

in  the  lighter  order  of  poetry.  He  is  truly  genius 
incarnate,  but  not  the  genius  which  sounds  the 
depths  of  things  ;  rather  that  which  rapidly  seizes  their 
contrasts,  and  brings  them  out  in  vivid  colours.  His 
power  over  his  age  was  unequalled,  and  he  swayed 
it  by  means  of  that  light  and  charming  sceptre, 
which  was  none  the  less  a  formidable  weapon.  Still 
acting  en  bon  prince,  he  too  often  pandered  to  the  taste 
of  his  subjects,  by  indulging  in  that  literary  liber- 
tinism, which  was  so  much  esteemed  as  a  spice  in  the 
eighteenth  century." 

Never  could  it  be  more  truly  said  than  of  Voltaire 
and  Strauss,  that  the  manner  is  the  man.  The 
sparkling  vivacity  of  the  former  was  the  result  of 
temperament.  He  was,  as  has  been  said,  a  creature 
of  air  and  fire,  the  most  nervous,  the  most  mobile 
who  ever  lived  ;  in  spite  of  his  sardonic  smile,  his 
soul  was  all  passion.  His  literary  activity  was  pro- 
digious. Wherever  he  was,  travelling,  or  in  a 
wretched  inn,  at  the  court  of  the  King  of  Prussia,  in 
the  vortex  of  Paris,  or  in  the  quiet  country,  he  could 
never  restrain  the  demon  of  his  inspiration  or  the 
fervour  of  the  controversialist.  "I  have  found  Vol- 
taire," said  one  of  his  visitors,  "  in  bed,  and  in  a  high 
fever,  but  still  writing,  always  just  on  the  point  of  begin- 
ning or  finishing  either  a  tragedy  or  a  pamphlet."  His 
hatred  was  only  equalled  by  his  ardent  friendship. 
While  he  would  doom  his  enemies  with  pitiless 
severity  to  an  immortality  of  ridicule,,  he  was  full  of 


92  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

goodwill,  generosity  and  tenderness  to  his  friends. 
Often  he  would  even  take  pity  on  the  adversary 
whom  he  had  almost  annihilated,  and  would  hold  out 
to  him  a  helping  hand.  His  kindness  to  the  descend- 
ant of  Corneille  was  truly  touching.  One  can  but 
marvel  at  his  patient  forbearance  with  his  intolerable 
niece,  of  whom  Europe  was  disposed  to  say  with 
Frederic :  "  Cease  to  weary  me  with  her  ! "  That 
which  is  most  admirable  in  Voltaire  is  this  humanity, 
ever  responsive  to  any  claim  of  suffering  or  wrong. 
His  devotion  to  the  family  of  Calas,  to  the  Sirvens,  to 
the  Chevalier  de  la  Barre,  redounds  to  the  eternal 
honour  of  his  memory.  He  does  not  stop  either  to 
weigh  or  calculate  ;  it  is  the  simple  love  of  justice 
that  moves  him.  He  would  pretend  to  have  the  fever 
on  each  anniversary  of  St.  Bartholomew.  I  do  not 
know  if  his  doctor  ever  felt  his  pulse  on  that  day, 
but  I  do  know  that  the  great  crimes  of  history  always 
made  him  burn  with  the  fever  of  a  noble  indignation. 
This  humanity  is  entirely  wanting  in  Strauss,  as 
is  only  too  clear  from  his  singular  autobiography. 
He  did  not,  indeed,  fall  into  the  same  mistakes  as 
Voltaire.  Nothing  could  be  more  correct  than  his 
calm  and  studious  career.  His  private  life  is  worthy 
of  all  esteem.  Only  on  two  occasions  did  he  emerge 
from  his  study,  and  the  attempt  was  not  successful. 
The  first  time  it  was  to  compose  the  libretto  of  an 
opera,  which  brought  him  into  contact  with  the 
theatrical  world.     This  libretto  cost  him  very  dear, 


STRAUSS  AND  VOLTAIRE.  93 

by  his  own  confession,  for  it  brought  him  his  wife,  a 
brilliant  singer,  who  could  not  bring  herself  to  pass 
inglorious  days  by  the  fireside  of  her  studious  hus- 
band, and  who  at  the  end  of  two  years  left  him  with 
two  children  on  his  hands.  The  second  time  he  was 
tempted  out  of  his  seclusion,  was  to  attempt  a  short 
passage  of  political  life.  In  the  great  fermentation 
which  followed  the  Revolution  of  1848,  his  country- 
men sent  him  to  sit  in  the  Chamber  of  Wurtemburg 
Deputies,  imagining  that  the  author  of  the  "  Leben 
Jesu,"  whose  very  name  had  occasioned  a  perfect  tumult 
in  the  canton  of  Zurich,  at  the  time  of  his  nomination 
to  a  chair  of  theology,  must  be  a  Radical  of  the  first 
water.  This  Radical  went  and  took  his  seat  at  the 
extreme  Right.  The  electors  were  hotly  indignant. 
He  hastened  back  into  private  life  as  fast  as  he  could, 
vowing  that  nothing  should  tempt  him  again  into  the 
arena  of  political  strife. 

As  we  read  his  memoirs  we  can  but  be  amazed  at 
the  narrowness  of  his  spirit.  No  great  cause  of 
humanity  excites  his  interest ;  what  he  is  most  con- 
cerned about  is  his  reputation.  He  analyses  his  own 
talents  with  the  most  minute  care.  That  he  is  a  great 
critic,  a  great  savant,  cela  va  de  sot,  and  he  does 
not  care  to  enlarge  upon  it.  He  goes  much  more 
into  detail  as  to  qualities,  for  which  no  one  would 
have  given  him  credit  but  himself.  "  I  have  extensive 
and  profound  learning,"  he  says,  "but  have  I  also 
imagination,  poetry  in  my  nature  ?    I  cannot  say  that 


94  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

I  am  a  poet,  and  yet  .  .  .  ."  Playing  on  his 
name,  which  signifies  ostrich,  he  declares  frankly  that, 
like  that  powerful  bird,  if  he  has  not  the  great  flight 
of  the  wings  of  inspiration,  he  has  the  rudiments  of 
wings,  which  make  his  progress  rapid,  and  lift  him 
above  a  prosaic  vulgarity.  The  whole  of  this  part  of 
his  autobiography  is  real  comedy.  He  is  far  less 
amusing  when,  on  the  occasion  of  his  famous  corre- 
spondence with  M.  Renan,  at  the  time  of  the  war  of 
1870,  he  shows  himself  concerned  about  nothing  but 
the  literary  success  of  his  odious  apology  for  the  enor- 
mities of  the  conquest.  In  the  midst  of  this  terrible 
drama  of  history,  his  main  concern  is  to  know  whether 
the  roar  of  the  cannon  will  drown  his  voice,  and  he 
finds  with  unmixed  satisfaction,  that  the  sale  of  his 
pamphlet  has  not  suffered  very  severely  from  the  course 
of  events.  There  is  truly  much  of  the  Trissotin  in  this 
great  scholar.  He  is  wholly  destitute  of  that  order  of 
sentiment  which  we  designate  by  the  name  of  humanity, 
and  which  Voltaire  so  largely  possessed. 

The  contrast  of  thought  between  these  two  writers 
is  still  more  marked  than  that  of  feeling.  However 
incomplete,  and  therefore  inconsistent,  was  the  deism 
of  Voltaire,  it  yet  gave  a  place  to  the  idea  of  justice, 
while  the  logical  conclusion  of  the  system  of  German 
criticism,  especially  in  its  later  form,  was  the  most 
daring  negation  of  moral  order.  Let  us  be  careful, 
however,  not  to  lead  to  any  misconception  about 
Voltaire.      This  great  iconoclast  of  religion  remained 


STRAUSS  AND  VOLTAIRE.  95 

in  many  respects  a  gentleman  of  the  Chamber.  He 
was  little  of  a  democrat  who  wrote  these  words  :  "  I 
make  no  pretence  to  enlighten  shoemakers  and  serv- 
ing-maids ;  let  us  leave  this  task  to  the  apostles." 

The  new  earth  is  for  honnites  gens,  and  not  for  the 
rabble.  It  was  enough  for  him  that  this  new  earth 
should  be  the  paradise  of  persons  of  mind.  His 
predilection  was  for  a  brilliant  and  tolerant  social 
world,  an  age  of  Louis  XIV.,  minus  the  Revocation 
of  the  Edict  of  Nantes.  Here  and  there  in  his 
writings  we  can  perceive  some  faint  desires  after 
social  reforms,  but  nevertheless  he  was  every  inch 
an  aristocrat,  and  had  nothing  but  ridicule  for  the  un- 
fortunate apostles  of  democracy,  who,  like  Rous- 
seau, stood  forward  as  the  tribunes  of  the  people,  and 
urged  them  on  to  destroy  that  world  of  elegance  and 
intellectual  refinement,  in  which  the  author  of  the 
"  Mondain  "  delighted.  Hence  his  furious  indigna- 
tion at  the  article,  "  Sur  l'inegalite  des  conditions." 
"  That  man,"  he  said  of  Jean  Jaques  Rousseau, 
"  tries  to  resemble  Diogenes,  and  he  does  not  re- 
semble even  Diogenes's  dog." 

It  is,  therefore,  not  without  astonishment,  that  we 
see  the  French  Revolution  carrying  to  the  Pantheon 
the  coffin  of  so  strange  a  forerunner.  Yet  the  Revo- 
lution was  right.  Voltaire  had,  in  fact,  laid  the  axe  to 
the  root  of  the  tree,  of  which  he  would  fain  have  pre- 
served the  branches  and  the  flowers.  In  attacking 
the  religion  of  the  old  society,  he  wounded  it  at  the 


96  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

heart,  and  thus  rendered  easy  the  task  of  those 
terrible  destroyers,  who  learned  their  business  by 
reading  his  books.  We  are  bound,  indeed,  to  admit 
that  the  religion  which  he  pursued  with  such  deadly 
hatred  had  miserably  fallen,  since  it  had  been  repre- 
sented in  France  by  a  Church  at  once  worldly  and 
intolerant.  It  persecuted  those  who  did  not  hold 
its  creed,  without  itself  really  believing  in  it ;  and 
courtly  abbes  just  emerged  from  the  boudoirs  of 
grandes  dames,  sold  their  subsidies  to  the  king  at  each 
fresh  assembly  of  the  clergy,  as  the  price  of  heavier 
restrictions  to  be  laid  on  the  Protestants  and  the 
philosophers.  This  was  the  scandal  which  Voltaire 
determined  to  put  down.  Unhappily  he  did  not  know 
how  to  distinguish  religion  itself  from  this  odious 
perversion  of  it.  In  attempting  to  destroy  every- 
where the  feeling  of  reverence,  he  did  not  root  up 
only  the  parasitic  plant  of  superstition :  he  carried 
away  at  the  same  time  the  very  soil  into  which  the 
moral  and  religious  idea  casts  its  roots.  In  this 
deplorable  confusion,  Voltaire  laid  profane  hands 
upon  everything,  despoiling  the  past  of  all  its 
grandeur,  not  sparing  even  the  funeral  pile  of  Joan  of 
Arc.  Too  often  he  treated  the  human  soul  itself 
like  another  Maid  of  Orleans,  delighting  to  humble  it 
and  to  trample  it  in  the  mire. 

"  En  deux  coups  de  sa  griffe  il  de'pouille  tout  nu 
De  l'univers  entier  le  monarque  absolu  ; 
II  vit  que  le  grand  roi  lui  cachait  sous  le  linge 
Un  corps  faible  monte*  sur  des  jambes  de  singe  !  " 


STRAUSS  AND  VOLTAIRE.  97 

We  must  be  careful,  however,  not  to  be  unjust.  It 
was  in  his  very  love  to  humanity  that  Voltaire  de- 
graded it.  He  longed  to  free  it  from  all  the  tyrannies 
which  are  founded  upon  so-called  divine  rights.  It  is 
clear  that  a  monkey  can  never  be  made  a  pope,  and 
cannot  assume  airs  of  superiority  towards  other  mon- 
keys, his  brethren.  This  was  the  fundamental  idea 
of  Voltaire,  which  we  are  bound  to  recognise  through 
all  the  gratuitous  libel  and  licentious  buffoonery  that 
overlies  it.  That  against  which  he  fought  with  all 
his  eloquence  and  with  all  his  power  of  satire,  was 
intolerance  j  and  it  was  this  which  rendered  his 
arguments  so  effective  against  a  perverted  religion, 
which  was  associated  with  the  worst  iniquities  of  the 
past. 

The  toleration  which  Voltaire  demanded  was,  indeed, 
a  very  incomplete  thing  ;  it  had  no  analogy  with 
true  freedom  of  conscience  or  of  worship,  as  is  evident 
from  these  significant  words :  "  The  wise  who  do  not 
recognise  two  powers  are  the  best  upholders  of  the 
royal  authority."  His  conception  of  liberty  was, 
nevertheless,  very  much  higher  than  that  of  the 
State  religion.  And  when  any  form  of  religion  sinks 
below  the  general  conscience  of  the  age,  it  is  very 
near  its  end.  When  man  is  superior  to  the  gods  who 
are  held  up  to  him,  it  may  be  safely  predicted  that  the 
gods  will  soon  disappear. 

Things  have,  greatly  changed  in  our  day.  The 
great  adversary  of  Christianity  at  the  present  time 

8 


98  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

is,  not  Voltaire,  but  Strauss,  and  the  ideal  which  he 
presents  is  not  of  a  nature  to  commend  itself  to  the 
conscience  of  the  age. 

All  readers  of  his  book,  "  Der  alte  und  der  neue 
Glaube,"  will  feel  that  not  many  words  are  needed  in 
order  to  prove  this.  It  culminates  in  the  materialistic 
doctrine  of  transformations,  carried  to  its  extreme 
issues,  and  boldly  applied  to  human  society.  Strauss 
recognises  in  the  world  only  matter  and  force.  Society 
belongs  to  the  strong  ;  his  system  allows  no  place 
either  for  the  right,  for  mind,  or  for  liberty. 

Tracing  back  the  origin  of  universal  life  to  one 
little  cellule,  he  acknowledges  no  law  of  progress  but 
that  of  a  desperate  struggle  for  existence.  The 
strong  to  the  front,  the  weak  to  the  rear !  this  is  his 
motto.  When  Strauss  reaches  the  goal  of  his  de- 
structive work  in  philosophy  and  religion,  he  pauses 
before  the  only  mystery  which  remains  to  him, 
namely,  that  of  the  sovereignty  of  royal  races.  There 
is  no  longer  any  good  God,  but  there  is  a  triumphant 
Caesar. 

Down  on  your  knees,  mortals  !  worship  without 
understanding  —  you,  especially,  who  are  the  con- 
quered. Right  is  no  more  ;  might  reigns.  If  some 
souls  behind  the  age  still  urge,  in  opposition  to  the 
omnipotence  of  the  State,  the  scruples  of  their  re- 
ligious conscience  and  its  pretended  independence, 
these  must  be  severely  dealt  with.  Strauss  expresses 
on  this  subject  a  quite  gratuitous  anxiety,  lest  the 


STRAUSS  AND  VOLTAIRE.  99 

Imperial  Chancellor  should  show  too  gentle  a  hand 
in  the  famous  "  Culturkampf,"  of  which  he  is  one  of 
the  warmest  partisans.  He  says,  in  concluding, "  Some 
may  perhaps  bring  up  in  opposition  to  us  the  Sermon 
on  the  Mount,  but  this  has  only  to  be  read  cum  grano 
salis,  and  we  are  prepared  to  agree  with  it." 

The  popular  interpretation,  which  would  derive 
from  it  protection  for  the  weak  and  lessons  of  mercy, 
does  very  well  for  the  ignorant.  But  here,  also, 
with  Strauss,  might  not  only  takes  precedence  of  right, 
but  does  away  with  it.  The  General  of  the  First 
Empire,  who  did  not  hesitate  to  turn  his  cannon 
upon  his  own  wounded  in  order  to  carry  a  position, 
is  a  type  of  the  new  civilisation,  the  chariot  of 
which  advances,  crushing  all  that  has  not  strength 
to  resist. 

This  philosophy  of  history  is  latent  in  Strauss'  last 
book,  and  we  have  seen  it  unhesitatingly  applied  in 
some  recent  writings  by  men  of  his  school.  Our 
readers  will  understand,  after  this,  how  it  is  we  prefer 
Voltaire  to  Strauss.  Happily  we  are  not  reduced  to 
either  alternative. 

The  atheism  of  the  nineteenth  century  declares 
itself  more  and  more,  as  the  implacable  enemy  of 
justice  and  liberty,  at  least  in  theory.  For  this  reason 
it  cannot  exert  the  same  influence  as  the  philo- 
sophy of  the  eighteenth  century,  which  was  always 
generous  and  humane,  even  when  it  called  in  question 
the  idea  of  God.     It  is  not  possible  that  democracy 


ioo  CONTEMPORARY  PORTRAITS. 

should  hesitate  in  its  choice,  or  that  it  should  adopt 
doctrines  which  trample  under  foot  all  that  is  just  and 
generous  in  its  designs,  by  rejecting  that  spiritualism 
which  is  their  true  inspiration  and  sanction. 


THE    CULTURKAMPF  IN  GERMANY. 


THE   CULTURKAMPF    IN 
GERMANY. 

ITS  PRINCIPLES  AND  RESULTS. 

THE  criticisms  of  a  foreigner  are  always  regarded 
with  suspicion.  It  is  therefore  fortunate  when 
the  writer  can  call  to  his  aid  entirely  impartial 
testimony.  Such  testimony  we  find  in  the  work  of 
M.  Geffcken,  to  which  our  readers  are  referred.1  We 
are  glad,  then,  to  avail  ourselves  of  his  light  in  the 
picture  we  desire  to  draw  of  the  true  state  of  the 
ecclesiastical  controversy  in  Prussia. 

The  author,  who  is  a  man  of  influence  in  his  own 
country,  an  eminent  lawyer,  well  acquainted  with  the 
present  position  of  European  affairs  (having  been  for 
a  long  time  Minister  of  the  Hanseatic  towns  in  Paris 
and  Berlin),  has  greatly  enlarged  on  his  original 
design,  which  was,  undoubtedly,  to  impugn  the  reli- 

1  "  Staat  und  Kirche  in  ihren  Verhaltnissen  geschichtlich 
entwickelt."     By  L.  Heinrich  Geffcken.     Berlin,  1875. 


104  CONTEMPORARY  PORTRAITS. 

gious  policy  of  Prince   Bismarck.     The  part  of  the 
work  devoted  to  this  subject  occupies  but  a  few  pages, 
which  are  almost  lost  in  the  midst  of  a  long  historical 
dissertation    on  the  relations  of   Church  and    State. 
His  book  is,  in  truth,  a  tract  for  the  times,  with  a 
preface,  which  is  a  treatise  in  itself.     Possibly  he  said 
to  himself,  as  did  Louis  Paul  Courier  :  "  It  is  danger- 
ous, particularly  in  Prussia,  to  adventure  oneself  in  a 
sheet  or  two  which  may  be  treated  as  a  pamphlet ;  on 
the  principle  that  a  grain  of  morphia,  which  would  be 
lost  in  a  copper  full  of  water,  would  be  fatal  in  a  spoon- 
ful."   To  this  caution  on  the  part  of  our  author,  we  owe 
a  very  complete  exposition  of  the  actual  relations  be- 
tween the  two  powers,temporal  and  spiritual,  in  Europe, 
which  enables  us,  while  devoting  special  attention  to 
the  facts  affecting   Germany,  to  determine  also   the 
conditions  under  which  the  ecclesiastical  controversy 
must  be  carried  on  everywhere,  if  it  is  to  have  any 
decisive  issue  at  all.     That  the  struggle  itself  is  in- 
evitable and    is  gravely  aggravated   by  existing  cir- 
cumstances, has  been  obvious  for  several  years. 

In  the  countries  which  are,  as  it  were,  the  classic 
soil  of  religious  liberty,  the  alarm  has  been  given. 
The  consequences  of  the  late  Council,  as  they  have 
unfolded  themselves,  have  startled  and  provoked  the 
most  decided  adherents  of  State  neutrality  in  matters 
of  religion.  Attention  has  been  drawn  to  the  manner 
in  which  the  President  of  the  United  States  has 
denounced  the  attempt  made  by  the  Ultramontanes, 


THE  CULTURKAMPF  IN  GERMANY.  105 

to  change  the  unsectarian  character  of  American 
schools,  and  to  get  into  their  own  hands  the  manage- 
ment of  popular  instruction  in  the  districts  where 
they  are  most  numerous.  All  remember  Mr.  Glad- 
stone's emphatic  statement  of  the  incompatibility  of 
Ultramontane  orthodoxy  with  a  sincere  respect  for 
the  English  Constitution.  His  powerful  treatise 
produced  a  great  impression  upon  public  opinion  at 
the  time.  The  conclusions  drawn  by  the  great  orator, 
though  no  doubt  strictly  logical,  may  be  somewhat 
exaggerated  in  point  of  fact,  since  we  must  always 
make  allowance  for  human  inconsistency,  which  comes 
in  to  modify  all  merely  theoretical  calculations. 

Upon  the  Continent  of  Europe,  the  irreconcilable 
opposition  of  the  various  schools  threatens  to  assume 
a  character  of  still  greater  acerbity,  after  the  political 
changes  which  have  lately  taken  place.  We  do  not 
imagine  that  Italy  is  about  to  follow  the  example  of 
Prussia.  Well  satisfied  to  have  put  an  end  to  the 
temporal  power  of  the  papacy,  and  to  have  carried 
out,  without  disturbances,  the  great  and  difficult 
operation  of  adjusting  ecclesiastical  property,  it  is  in 
no  haste  to  leave  the  paths  of  moderation.  The 
spirit  of  Cavour  still  governs  it.  Liberal  Italy  has 
quietly  allowed  the  harmless  thunders  of  the  Vatican 
to  roll  over  her  head.  She  regards  with  amused" 
indifference,  the  crowds  of  pilgrims  passing  through 
her  towns  from  all  parts  of  the  world,  well  knowing 
that  if  they  shake  off  against  her  the  dust  of  their 


106  CONTEMPORAR  Y  PORTRAITS. 

feet,  they  let  fall  some  of  their  gold  at  the  same  time, 
and  thus  help  to  enrich  the  cities  which  their  curses 
are  powerless  to  harm.  In  France  recently  the  whole 
aspect  of  affairs  has  changed.  The  Ultramontane 
party  no  longer  holds  in  its  hand  that  much-abused 
instrument — at  once  so  convenient  and  so  dangerous 
— a  docile  parliamentary  majority. 

The  great  antithesis  between  the  modern  State  and 
Ultramontanism  threatens  to  become  a  firebrand, 
scattering  strife  on  every  hand. 

The  surest  way  to  escape  this  danger  is  to  lay  down 
clearly  the  liberal  principles  which  ought  to  govern 
the  whole  debate,  and  to  show,  by  contemporary 
history,  what  it  has  cost  to  deviate  from  them. 

This  is  the  twofold  task  to  which  M.  Geffcken's 
book  summons  us,  and  we  cannot  do  better  than 
listen  to  him  in  his  own  cause ;  for,  as  an  ardent 
patriot,  and  no  friend  to  the  Ultramontane  "  Centre," 
he  follows  only  the  leadings  of  reason  and  conscience. 


I. 

In  order  to  form  a  fair  judgment  of  the  policy  of 
the  various  governments  of  Europe,  in  the  conflict 
between  the  Church  and  the  State,  we  must  revert  to 
the  fundamental  idea  of  these  two  great  institutions, 
for  everything  that  is  at  variance  with  their  true 
intention  produces  grave  practical  mistakes.  The 
State  is  the  representative  of  the  law ;  it  is  the  pro- 


THE  CULTURKAMPF  IN  GERMANY.  107 

tector  of  all  interests  and  all  liberties,  the  venerable 
guardian  of  the  peace  of  society,  bound  to  favour 
every  possible  development  of  civil  life  and  prosperity. 
The  Church  constitutes  a  higher  society,  destined  to 
unite  souls  in  the  bond  of  a  common  faith,  to  uplift 
them  and  train  them  for  a  higher  life  beyond  the  limits 
of  the  earthly.  These  two  organisations  are  both  alike 
necessary,  and  are  both  based  upon  a  divine  insti- 
tution ;  but,  while  neither  can  dispense  with  the  other, 
they  differ  radically  in  their  nature  and  mode  of  action. 
The  State  requires  obedience  to  the  civil  law,  while 
the  Church  would  cease  to  be  a  spiritual  and  moral 
society,  if  it  were  to  use  coercion  ;  its  only  authority 
is  over  its  believing  children.  As  the  State  is  largely 
interested  in  the  development  of  the  religious  influ- 
ence, for  the  formation  of  good  citizens,  animated 
with  the  spirit  of  justice  and  of  piety,  the  author 
deems  that  it  is  necessary  for  the  State  to  enter  into 
positive  relations  with  the  Church,  and  to  encourage 
without  controlling  it,  respecting  its  independence  as 
the  very  condition  of  its  influence.  We  leave  to  the 
German  publicist,  this  chimera  of  the  civil  union  of 
the  two  powers  in  mutual  independence.  History 
does  not  supply  us  with  this  philosopher's  stone.  Its 
uniform  testimony  is  that  in  this  union,  which  has 
neither  reason  nor  moral  affinity  on  its  side,  the 
power  has  always  been  on  the  side  of  the  State,  unless 
it  was  the  Church  itself  which  held  the  sword,  as 
in  the  times  when  a  triumphant  theocracy  made  the 


108  CONTEMPORARY  PORTRAITS. 

civil  power  a  sort  of  prince  consort.  With  the  excep- 
tion of  this  error,  which,  after  so  many  centuries  of 
inextricable  confusion  of  ideas,  it  is  difficult  to  escape, 
the  respective  domains  of  Church  and  State  are  very 
clearly  defined  by  M.  Geffcken. 

In  his  view  three  great  spiritual  revolutions  have 
vindicated  in  theory  this  distinction,  too  often  for- 
gotten in  fact.  The  first  of  these  is  Christianity, 
which  put  an  end  to  the  Jewish  theocracy,  and  re- 
leased from  the  old  civic  thraldom  the  domain  of 
conscience  and  of  the  higher  life,  which  paganism 
merged  wholly  in  that  of  the  community.  The 
second  spiritual  power  which,  according  to  M. 
Geffcken,  has  helped  to  form  the  modern  State  with 
its  constitutional  principles,  is  the  Reformation,  which, 
in  spite  of  many  inconsistencies,  successfully  attacked 
the  theocratic  idea,  and  restored  the  rights  of  the 
State,  perhaps  in  a  somewhat  exaggerated  form. 
The  third  powerful  influence  which  completed  the 
demolition  of  the  theocratic  idea,  is  the  philosophy  of 
the  eighteenth  century,  to  which  M.  Geffcken  does 
not  attach  sufficient  importance.  This  proved  a 
terribly  destructive  weapon  to  the  established  order 
of  things,  and  none  the  less  deadly  because  it  was 
forged  of  bright  and  polished  steel.  It  attacked 
every  vestige  of  the  middle  ages  with  an  energy 
of  passion  and  satire,  beneath  which  lay  a  genuine 
regard  for  liberty  of  conscience.  It  must  be  owned 
that  this  bold  philosophy,  in  demanding  liberty  of  con- 


THE  CULTURKAMPF  IN  GERMANY.  109 

science,  had  more  regard  for  liberty  than  for  conscience, 
and  thus  deprived  the  latter  of  its  surest  foundation  ; 
that  it  was  content  with  toleration  of  ideas  without 
seeking  toleration  of  all  forms  of  worship  ;  that  by 
showing  more  love  than  respect  for  man,  and  by 
ignoring  his  high  origin,  it  failed  to  cast  over  his 
intellect  and  his  soul,  the  sacred  buckler  of  a  truly 
divine  right,  which  is  the  only  sure  defence  against  all 
aggression  from  without.  A  religious  enthusiast  like 
Milton  will  always  be  a  firmer  champion  of  freedom 
of  conscience,  than  a  great  scoffer  or  sceptic.  In  spite 
of  all  its  shortcomings,  however,  the  eighteenth  cen- 
tury gave  the  final  blow  to  the  theocratic  idea,  and 
triumphantly  vindicated  that  conception  of  the  lay 
State,  which  has  taken  too  strong  a  hold  of  the 
modern  mind  ever  to  be  again  shaken  off. 

The  part  of  M.  GefTcken's  book  which  is  devoted  to 
the  French  Revolution  is  of  special  interest,  although 
many  other  works  on  the  same  subject  give  more 
exact  information.  We  cannot  too  carefully  study 
in  our  own  day  the  lessons  of  this  great  era,  in  which 
the  true  and  the  false  came  into  violent  collision,  like 
torrents  of  lava  flowing  from  the  rent  sides  of  a 
volcano,  which  belches  forth  at  once  fire  and  mud. 
Hardly  had  liberty  of  conscience  been  formally 
recognised  in  the  declaration  of  the  rights  of  man, 
and  confirmed  by  the  repeated  votes  of  the  Con- 
tituent  Assembly,  after  receiving  the  comment  of 
Mirabeau,  who  gave  it  its  noblest  expression  ;  hardly 


1 10  CONTEMPORAR  Y  PORTRAITS. 

had  it  triumphed  over  its  natural  enemies  of  the 
Right,  when  it  received  a  severe  blow  in  the  civil  con- 
stitution of  the  clergy.  The  lay  and  modern  State, 
but  just  freed  from  the  fetters  of  theocracy,  is  at  once 
hurried  away  in  the  eagerness  of  the  conflict  beyond 
its  true  domain.  It  ceases  to  be  a  lay  institution 
when  it  tries  to  reform  the  Church  by  authority,  and 
to  turn  the  National  Assembly  into  a  Council.  It 
does  not  impugn  simply  the  factious  proceedings  of 
the  old  clergy — this  would  be  within  its  competence 
— but  it  goes  farther,  and  assails  doctrines,  ideas, 
beliefs ;  and  when  it  seeks  to  put  a  constraint  upon 
the  religious  conscience  by  the  oath  which  it  would 
exact  from  the  priests,  it  arouses  against  itself  the 
most  unconquerable  of  all  resisting  forces.  Having 
committed  this  great  initial  error,  it  was  bound  by  the 
implacable  logic  of  history,  to  fall  into  other  and  yet 
graver  mistakes.  Engaged  in  a  hopeless  conflict,  in 
which  it  feels  from  the  first  it  must  be  defeated,  it 
soon  passes  on  to  open  persecution,  and  makes  itself 
gratuitously  odious.  But  the  hulks,  the  scaffold,  pro- 
scription, all  are  in  vain.  Exasperated  by  the  feeling 
of  its  own  impotence,  it  only  provokes  a  more  dan- 
gerous reaction,  driving  the  Catholic  clergy  to  the 
feet  of  the  papacy,  depriving  it  of  that  feeling  of 
nationality  which  gave  it  a  measure  of  independence 
towards  Rome,  and  thus  paving  the  way  for  that 
brilliant  triumph  of  Ultramontanism  in  the  nine- 
teenth century,  which  Napoleon  was  powerless  either 


THE  CUL  TURKAMPF  IN  GERMANY.  1 1 1 

to  stifle  by  kindness  or  to  crush  by  violence,  after  his 
quarrel  with  Pius  VII.  It  is  the  Revolution  which 
is  responsible  for  all  that  M.  Geffcken  describes  as 
Vaticanism,  because  it  fell  into  the  mistake  of  trying 
to  make  Gallicanism  compulsory  —  the  sure  way  to 
discredit  and  to  weaken  it.  With  regard  to  religious 
beliefs,  those  who  are  protected  by  force  are  always  in 
the  end  the  conquered  party,  especially  when  the  pro- 
tection of  the  one  side,  implies  the  persecution  of  the 
other.  To  attack  an  idea  is  to  strengthen  it,  to  render 
it  more  sacred,  more  powerful,  more  invincible,  even 
when  the  idea  is  associated  with  the  most  dangerous 
errors.  This  is  the  great  lesson  which  the  French 
Revolution  has  to  teach  us. 


II. 

Passing  on  to  the  controversies  of  our  own  day 
between  the  Church  and  the  State,  the  author,  before 
turning  to  his  own  country,  shows  us  how,  in  spite  of 
the  decisions  of  the  last  Council,  wise  and  liberal 
governments  may  maintain  their  rights  without  vio- 
lating or  suspending  those  of  others,  and  still  avoid 
great  schisms. 

Austria  and  Italy  are  held  up  to  us  rightly  as 
models  in  this  respect,  while  Switzerland  has  given 
us  until  quite  recently,  especially  at  Geneva  and  at 
Berne,  the  painful  spectacle  of  demagogic  radicalism 
trampling  on  liberty  of  conscience,  and  not  shrinking 


1 1 2  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

from  odious  spoliations  for  the  benefit  of  a  State 
religion,  which  owed  its  origin  to  political  bodies, 
the  majority  of  whose  members  were  either  indif- 
ferentists  or  enemies  to  all  religion.  Happily  a  Liberal 
reaction  has  just  set  in,  and  we  may  hope  that  it  will 
put  an  end  to  the  era  of  persecution. 

With  regard  to  Prussia,  M.  Geffcken  is  equally 
severe  on  all  that  curtails  religious  liberty.  He 
speaks  with  strong  reprehension  of  the  famous 
May  laws  of  1873,  which  not  merely  guaranteed 
the  rights  of  the  State,  but  impinged  on  so  many 
points  on  those  of  the  Church.  That  which  it  con- 
cerns us  especially  to  learn  from  so  impartial  a 
witness,  is  the  result  of  this  Draconian  legislation. 
M.  Geffcken  admits  at  once  that  it  has  shown 
the  complete  impotence  of  the  persecuting  State. 
This  is  made  evident  by  the  very  severity  of  the 
laws  designed  to  supplement  the  legislation  of  May, 
1873.  M.  Geffcken  protests  with  reason  against 
the  law  which  gives  the  Government  the  right  to 
banish  recalcitrant  priests  without  a  trial.  "No 
penalty,"  he  says,  "  except  the  penalty  of  death,  is 
deemed  heavier  than  that  which  exiles  a  man  from 
his  country,  and  sends  him  to  wander  through  the 
world  as  a  stranger.  And  to  incur  this  a  priest  has 
simply  to  refuse  to  disobey  the  regulations  of  his 
Church,  which  he  conscientiously  deems  incumbent 
upon  him  !  Yet  this  is  the  law  which  has  been  voted 
by  a  parliament  calling  itself  Liberal.     The  seques- 


THE  CULTURKAMPF  IN  GERMANY.  113 

tration  of  ecclesiastical  property,  the  prohibition  of 
voluntary  offerings,  the  imprisonment  of  several 
bishops,  has  had  no  effect.  The  Prussian  State  has 
only  succeeded  in  arousing  the  opposition,  not  only 
of  the  clergy  but  of  the  laity,  of  the  whole  of  that 
Catholic  nation  of  several  millions  of  souls,  which 
backs  up  its  priests  and  encourages  their  resistance. 
It  is  certain  that  in  the  silence  even  of  the  tribune, 
the  conflict  is  being  carried  on  unceasingly,  and  with- 
out any  prospect  of  peaceful  issue." 

M.  Geffcken  adds  :  "  A  legislation  which  invades 
the  proper  domain  of  the  Church  misapprehends  the 
nature  of  the  struggle  on  which  it  has  entered.  The 
Liberalism,  hostile  to  the  Catholic  Church,  which 
is  celebrating  its  so-called  victories,  regards  that 
Church  merely  as  a  political  adversary,  whose  dan- 
gerous organisation  it  must  break  up  at  all  costs  : 
it  forgets  that  its  strength  lies  in  the  religious  in- 
fluence which  no  law  has  power  to  cancel.  The 
May  laws  are  a  return  to  the  policy  of  Joseph  II., 
who  sought  to  make  himself  master  of  a  domain 
which  the  State  never  could  subdue.  But  where 
the  avowed  absolutism  of  the  eighteenth  century  and 
the  Convention  failed,  the  modern  State  is  not  likely 
to  succeed,  in  an  age  which  boasts  of  liberty  of  the 
press,  and  of  elections.  Liberalism  is  mistaken  as 
to  the  strength  of  the  State  when  it  thinks  it  can  de- 
cide all  questions  by  law.  The  only  laws  which  have 
a  guarantee   of  permanence   are  those  which  really 

9 


1 14  CONTEMPORAR  Y  PORTRAITS. 

fulfil  their  purpose.  The  Government  may  un- 
questionably go  much  further  in  measures  of  stern 
repression,  but  with  no  better  success.  In  the  heat 
of  the  conflict  it  has  forgotten  that  if  political  passion 
is  strong,  religious  passion  is  stronger  still.  From 
time  to  time  the  Government  organs  raise  the  cry 
of  victory,  and  yet  all  they  have  obtained  as  yet 
has  been  the  very  opposite  of  what  they  sought. 
To  the  German  episcopate,  compromised  as  it  no 
doubt  was  to  some  extent,  by  its  submission  to  the 
Council,  there  has  been  given  an  opportunity  of  re- 
asserting its  moral  dignity  by  steadfast  resistance  to 
oppression.  It  was  hoped  that  the  inferior  clergy 
might  be  induced  to  sever  from  their  leaders,  but 
the  contrary  result  has  taken  place.  There  was  an 
attempt  to  emancipate  the  laity  from  the  hierarchy, 
and  the  effect  has  been  to  unite  the  whole  mass  of 
the  Catholics  in  one  solid  phalanx.  It  is  not  pos- 
sible that  the  State  should  continue  thus  to  make 
war  on  a  third  of  the  population,  when  it  has  no 
means  of  carrying  the  day. 

"These  deplorable  conflicts  have  other  consequences 
not  less  serious.  They  tend  more  and  more  to  alienate 
from  the  Government  the  whole  of  the  Conservative 
party  ;  they  bring  dishonour  on  the  National  Liberal 
party,  by  making  all  its  sounding  declarations  of 
justice  and  liberty  nothing  more  than  empty  phrases; 
while  the  leaders  of  the  Socialist  party  go  on  pre- 
paring for  their  impious  war,  loudly  deriding  all  these 


THE  CUL  TURKAMPF  IN  GERMANY.  1 1 5 

inconsistencies,  and  availing  themselves  of  all  the 
popular  elements  which  are  not  already  enlisted  in 
the  Ultramontane  cause.  As  Luther  said  :  '  There 
is  no  fighting  against  opinions  by  the  sword,  and 
error  is  only  overcome  by  truth.5 " 

Such  testimony  as  that  of  M.  Gefifcken,  coming  from 
a  faithful  subject  of  the  German  Empire,  who  can- 
not be  accused  of  sympathy  with  the  foreigner,  and 
who  does  not  belong  to  the  persecuted  minority, 
deserves  to  be  carefully  weighed.  It  tells  exactly  what 
are  the  results  of  this  famous  "  Culturkampf."  The 
word  itself  carries  the  condemnation  of  that  which  it 
represents.  The  State,  in  declaring  itself  to  be  the 
defender  of  modern  culture  against  Ultramontanism, 
shows  that  it  is  not  content  with  defending  the  law, 
the  public  peace,  the  legislation  and  constitution  of 
the  country,  but  that  it  intends  to  enter  into  the 
conflict  of  doctrines  and  ideas,  to  attack  principles,  to 
oppose  a  certain  mode  of  thought,  to  undertake,  in 
short,  a  philosophic  war,  which  is  nothing  else  than  a 
religious  war.  The  State  is  the  guardian  of  the  high 
culture  of  the  nation  by  its  institutions  for  public 
instruction  ;  and,  above  all,  by  the  practice  of  a 
sincere  and  enlightened  Liberalism,  which  alone  per- 
mits national  culture  to  develop  itself  freely  in  the 
open  air,  and  not  in  a  hot-house.  We  should  pro- 
nounce the  "  Culturkampf,"  then,  to  be  essentially  a 
mistaken  and  dangerous  enterprise,  even  if  we  did  not 
know  to  what  excesses  and  to  what  futile  violence  it 


1 1 6  CONTEMPORA R  Y  FOR  7 RAITS. 

leads  on  the  Governments  which  allow  themselves  to 
be  involved  in  it. 

The  demonstration  of  this  given  by  M.  Geffcken  is 
as  conclusive  as  it  is  opportune.  It  has  been  supple- 
mented by  the  irrefutable  evidence  of  facts.  Have  we 
not  already  seen  the  Prussian  State  ready  to  lay  down 
its  arms  before  the  adversary  whom  it  had  thought  to 
crush  by  an  exceptional  legislation  ?  Whatever  may 
have  been  the  motives  actuating  it  in  this  step,  it  is 
none  the  less  a  confession  that  it  made  a  false  move 
in  its  Culturkampf,  and  the  price  is  a  heavy  one  to 
pay  for  assuring  a  majority  on  the  tariff  question. 


III. 

We  must  hasten  to  a  conclusion.  Whatever  liberal 
views  might  be  entertained  on  questions  of  this  order, 
it  was  impossible  to  doubt  that  a  struggle  between 
the  modern  State  and  the  Ultramontane  Church  was 
inevitable  in  France.  It  is  of  the  utmost  importance, 
therefore,  to  determine  what  are  the  true  conditions 
of  the  question,  in  order  that  the  contest  may  not 
be  embittered  and  rendered  interminable.  This  we 
shall  be  most  helped  to  do,  by  a  careful  observation 
of  the  experiments  made  elsewhere.  To  fail  in 
the  legitimate  exercise  of  the  protective  power  of 
the  State,  would  be  as  dangerous  as  to  be  guilty  of 
undue  severity,  for  the  weakness  of  one  day  might 
be  followed  by  a  violent  reaction  on  the  next.     The 


THE  CUL  T  URKAMPF  IN  GERMANY.  1 1 J 

duties  of  the  State,  as  we  understand  them,  consist  in 
keeping  up  a  vigorous  defence  against  everything 
that  menaces  its  safety,  without  having  recourse  to 
aggression,  least  of  all  in  matters  of  opinion  and  belief, 
which  are  always  intangible. 

It  cannot  be  denied  that  the  Ultramontane  party 
took  large  advantage  of  the  favourable  position  it 
enjoyed  in  the  last  National  Assembly,  in  its  attempts 
to  reconstruct  the  religion  of  the  State  for  its  own 
advantage.  By  observing  the  same  wisdom  which 
guided  the  Chamber  of  Deputies,  in  revising,  with 
a  studious  regard  to  its  principles,  the  law  relating  to 
the  liberty  of  the  higher  education,  it  would  be  pos- 
sible to  correct,  without  danger,  the  legislative  work 
of  the  National  Assembly,  and  slowly  but  surely  to 
restore  the  true  idea  of  the  modern  State  as  a  lay 
power.  We  hope,  indeed,  that  recourse  may  be  had 
to  the  surest,  and  at  the  same  time  the  noblest,  of 
all  modes  of  defence,  that  which  consists  in  extend- 
ing the  public  liberties.  The  best  rampart  that  can 
be  raised  against  Ultramontane  aggressions,  is  the  full 
recognition  of  liberty  of  worship.  At  present,  only 
those  forms  of  worship  are  legal  which  have  received 
the  previous  authorisation  of  the  State.  This  has 
been  simply  a  convenient  way  of  stifling  the  free 
development  of  religious  thought,  since  a  partial 
administration  was  always  sure  to  use  it  in  subser- 
vience to  the  Ultramontane  episcopate.  What  more 
excellent  way  can  there  be  of  combating  the  party  of 


u8  CONTEMPORARY  PORTRAITS. 

the  Syllabus  than  by  giving  or  extending  general 
liberty,  since  it  has  no  more  deadly  enemy  than 
freedom  of  conscience,  which  it  has  ever  loaded 
and  honoured  with  its  anathemas  ?  We  hope,  then, 
that  our  assemblies  will  hear  no  more  sophistical 
arguments  about  the  liberty  of  fathers  of  families, 
which  ought  to  be  respected,  as  opposed  to  the 
principle  which  makes  primary  education  compulsory  ; 
and  that  the  law  enforcing  this  will  be  voted  all  the 
more  quickly,  the  more  determined  is  the  Ultramon- 
tane opposition  to  it.  To  make  primary  instruction 
by  law  universal,  and  thus  to  dissipate  the  ignorance 
of  our  country  districts,  would  be  the  most  effectual 
means  of  weakening  the  cause  of  Ultramontanism. 

If  from  this  defensive  duty  of  the  Legislature,  we 
pass  on  to  the  measures  to  be  taken  against  the 
positive  aggressions  made  on  the  State,  it  is  obvious 
to  remark  that  the  first  obligation  of  the  Government 
is  to  see  that  the  administration  is  henceforth  con- 
ducted on  the  strictest  principles  of  religious  equality. 
There  is  much  to  be  done  before  this  equality  will  be 
really  restored,  in  the  ordinary  conduct  of  depart- 
mental affairs.  Those  open  attacks  upon  the  con- 
stitution of  the  country,  which  are  too  often  associated 
with  religious  fanaticism,  must  be  severely  proscribed. 
It  cannot  be  suffered  that  a  holy  war  should  be 
preached  anywhere  against  the  State,  and  against 
rights  guaranteed  by  law,  such  as  civil  and  religious 
liberty.     The  State  must  keep  a  watchful  eye  on  all 


THE  CULTURKAMPF  IN  GERMANY.  119 

the  great  religious  societies  which  have  one  power- 
ful interest  in  common.  Here,  again,  it  is  bound  to 
exercise  the  strictest  impartiality,  and  that  which  is 
forbidden  in  democratic  gatherings,  must  not  be 
tolerated  in  Catholic  clubs.  It  has  too  often  forgotten 
to  use  this  vigilance  and  this  even-handed  severity. 

But  here  it  must  stop.  Let  it  be  very  careful  not 
to  interfere  with  any  religious  manifestations  what- 
ever, that  do  not  trench  on  political  ground.  Let  it 
allow  pilgrimages  to  be  multiplied  till  they  wear 
themselves  out  ;  let  it  tolerate  any  manifestations  of 
zeal,  however  eccentric,  so  long  as  they  are  not  made 
the  occasion  for  fanning  political  discontent.  Let 
preaching  have  its  full  latitude  ;  let  it  develop  at  will 
its  theories  of  the  latest  Encyclical,  and  unfurl  the 
banner  of  the  Syllabus,  provided  only  that  it  does  not 
pass  from  theory  to  application,  and  does  not  incrimi- 
nate any  of  the  laws  and  institutions  of  the  country. 
Under  this  reservation,  let  the  State  not  trouble 
itself  about  the  instruction  given  in  the  Seminaries, 
only  claiming  its  right  of  inspection  and  control 
from  a  social  point  of  view.  For  while  France  must 
be  careful  to  avoid  the  errors  into  which  Prussia  has 
fallen,  and  not  to  make  impossible  conditions  for  the 
admission  of  her  clergy  to  office,  it  is  nevertheless  her 
duty  to  keep  a  watchful  eye  over  all  the  teaching 
given  in  the  country,  with  the  simple  object  of  assur- 
ing herself  that  nothing  is  taught  which  is  contrary  to 
the  laws  and  the  Constitution. 


120  CONTEMPORARY  PORTRAITS. 

It  will  be  clear  that  such  precautions  as  are  here 
suggested,  do  not  interfere  at  all  with  freedom  of 
belief  and  opinion  ;  they  are  not  calculated,  therefore, 
to  arouse  determined  opposition.  The  State  does  not 
enter  upon  a  war  of  ideas  ;  it  does  not  concern  itself, 
either  more  or  less,  with  orthodoxy,  as  in  Prussia  and 
Switzerland,  where  the  civil  authorities  undertake  to 
decide  what  is  the  true  Catholic  doctrine  by  proscrib- 
ing the  teaching  of  Ultramontanism.  Thus,  while  still 
maintaining  the  right  of  the  State  to  require  reason- 
able submission  to  the  civil  power,  as  it  is  determined 
in  the  first  article  of  the  Declaration  of  1682,  we  are 
not  prepared  to  admit  that  it  should  require  the  official 
teaching  of  the  three  other  articles,  which  imply  the 
negation  of  the  Ultramontane  doctrine,  the  triumph 
of  which  was  unhappily  assured  by  the  late  Council. 
This  would  be  to  fight  against  ideas  and  doctrines, 
a  conflict  in  which  victory  is  always  impossible.  We 
plead  for  the  prudent  and  moderate  application  of  the 
Concordat,  so  long  as  that  bastard  system  continues, 
which  it  is  equally  difficult  either  to  improve  or  to 
replace. 

All  the  prudence  in  the  world  must  fail,  however, 
if  there  is  not  on  both  sides  the  exercise  of  forbear- 
ance and  discretion.  It  is  not  possible  to  take 
precautions  against  the  freaks  of  insanity.  But  we 
ask  :  Is  there  not  culpable  audacity  in  defying  the 
public  conscience,  as  many  of  the  representatives 
of  Ultramontanism  do,  by  their  vindication   of    the 


THE  CULTURKAMPF  IN  GERMANY.  121 

maxims  of  religious  absolutism  ?  It  might  be  said, 
in  the  eloquent  words  of  one  of  the  most  illustrious 
Catholics  of  our  age,  that  they  treat  the  Church  like 
one  of  the  wild  beasts  which  are  carried  about  in  mena- 
geries. "  Look  at  it  well,"  they  seem  to  say,  "  and 
understand  what  is  its  true  nature.  To-day  it  is  in 
a  cage,  made  tame  and  spiritless  by  its  condition  ;  it 
has  no  power  at  present  to  harm  you  ;  but  see  what 
claws  it  has,  and  what  tusks,  and  if  ever  it  gets  free 
you  will  see  what  it  will  do."  Is  not  this  a  true  ver- 
sion of  all  the  rabid  declamations  of  the  defenders  of 
the  Syllabus,  who,  instead  of  leaving  it  in  the  safe 
obscurity  of  the  sanctuary,  drag  it  into  prominence, 
swear  by  nothing  else,  and  are  eager  to  reorganise 
society  according  to  its  principles,  the  first  result  of 
which  would  be  the  suppression  of  all  liberties,  and 
first  of  all  of  liberty  of  conscience. 

These  senseless  extravagances  are  fruitful  sources 
of  danger,  for  they  give  pretexts  to  the  ultra-Radicals, 
who  have  already  openly  demanded  the  subordination 
of  the  Church.  If  the  days  of  desperate  and  deadly 
struggle  between  the  two  powers  should  ever  come 
again,  much  of  the  responsibility  would  rest  on  the 
numerous  devotees  of  Ultramontanism.  How  can 
we  forget  that  those  who  raise  the  cry  that  they  are 
martyrs,  before  even  a  threat  has  been  breathed 
against  them,  are  the  first  to  declare  that  were  they 
only  themselves  in  power,  they  would  soon  make 
martyrs  ?     It  is  not  enough  for  the  moderate  children 


1 22  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

of  the  Church,  those  who  have  not  been  carried  away 
by  the  furious  torrent  of  this  new  league,  to  groan  in 
secret  over  these  excesses  of  speech  and  of  zeal.  At 
all  costs  they  must  restrain  them,  even  if  they  have 
to  bear  the  supreme  indignity  of  being  called  Liberal 
Catholics.  But  whether  they  do  their  duty  or  not, 
ours  remains  clear  :  it  is  to  be  consistent  Liberals,  even 
towards  the  worst  enemies  of  liberty,  respecting  error 
which  is  merely  doctrinal,  while  never  tolerating  any 
direct  attack  upon  the  State,  and  adhering  strictly  to 
law.  This  is  at  once  the  surest  and  the  noblest  path 
to  victory,  while  violent  measures  only  frustrate  them- 
selves by  giving  to  the  dangerous  doctrines  at  which 
they  are  aimed,  the  advantage  of  being  unjustly  perse- 
cuted. Against  such  a  course  let  the  example  of 
Prussia  be  a  sufficient  warning  to  us. 


ARNAUD  DE  CAR1EGE. 


ARNAUD  DE   LARIEGE. 

NONE  of  our  contemporaries  in  public  life  will 
leave  behind  a  memory  more  stainless  and 
more  justly  esteemed,  than  Arnaud  de  l'Ariege.  He 
was  a  man  of  rare  courage,  a  bold  and  indomitable 
defender  of  our  public  liberties,  ready  in  the  cause 
of  freedom  to  brave  personal  danger,  to  endure  exile, 
and  that  which  is  more  bitter  still,  isolation  and 
inaction,  while  oppression  was  triumphant.  But  he 
was  more  than  this.  He  represented  a  class  of 
generous  souls  whose  dream  it  had  been  to  bring 
democracy  into  harmony  with  the  religion  of  the 
past,  strangely  transformed  by  them  into  their  own 
image,  and  whom  the  failure  of  this  hope  filled  with 
an  abiding  sadness.  Like  the  Rebecca  of  the  Bible, 
of  whom  it  is  said  that  she  bare  within  her  womb 
two  nations,  the  noble  school  to  which  Arnaud  de 
l'Ariege  belonged,  embraced  two  brothers,  or  rather 
two  worlds,  which  it  strove  to  reconcile.  To  this 
impossible  task  he  devoted  himself  with  an  energy 
and  zeal  which  nothing  could  daunt,  and  the  conflict, 
which  found  its  counterpart  also  in  his  own  soul,  cost 
him  the  keenest  anguish.     His  mental  suffering  was 


126  CONTEMPORARY  PORTRAITS. 

sufficiently  indicated  by  the  premature  whitening  of 
his  hair,  and  by  the  fixed  expression  of  melancholy 
on  his  fine  features.     Any  one  who  watched  him  as 
he  sat  silent  in  his  place  on  the  left  of  the  National 
Assembly,  must  have  felt  that  he  was  one  of  those 
political    anchorites    who   pursue    their   own     ideal 
visions   through   all  the  hot  strife  of  parties.     It  is 
said   that   when    Lamartine   entered   the    Chambers 
he  replied  to  those  who  asked  him  whether  he  would 
sit  on  the  right  or  the  left,  Au  plafond  (on  the  ceiling). 
Probably  it  was  a  ministerial  of  the   day  who  ori- 
ginated this  story  of  the  great  poet.     Nor  could  it 
be   applied  without   grave   injustice   to   Arnaud   de 
l'Ariege,  for,  however   high  might  be   his   ideal,   he 
never  hesitated,  in  the  great  crises  of  national  history, 
to  take  his  place  boldly  on  the  side  of  liberty  and 
the  right.     The  Republican  Liberal  party  has  had  no 
more  honest  representative,  none  more  exempt  from 
personal  ambition,  or  more  firm  in  the  days  of  peril. 
His  convictions  were  so  deep  that  they  produced  a 
calm  serenity,  and  no  bitter  or  passionate  word  was 
ever  known  to  escape  his  lips.     He  would  make  no 
compromises   on   a    point    of    conscience,    and    his 
verdict  was  very  severe  on  those   who  had    no  pity 
on  France  in   her  struggle  to  recover  herself.     His 
kindness  was  at  the  same  time   unbounded,  but   it 
never  degenerated  into  weakness.     He  who  is  a  real 
friend  to  truth  and  to  mankind,  carries  his  attachment 
to  his  cause  to  such  a  height  of  disinterestedness,  that 


ARNAUD  DE  VARIEGE.  127 

the  mere  fluctuations  of  passion  have  no  power  to 
move  him,  and  the  strength  of  his  convictions  gives 
stability  to  his  character. 

Such  a  man  was  Arnaud  de  l'Ariege  in  his  stern 
endeavour  to  unite  his  religious  with  his  democratic 
faith.  Must  it  be  said  that  he  failed  in  this  noble 
enterprise  because,  during  the  later  years  of  his  life, 
he  saw  the  desired  reconciliation  ever  receding  before 
him  ?  Broadly  regarding  the  question,  we  think  not. 
In  the  first  place,  he  saved  the  honour  of  religion, 
by  showing  himself  a  great  citizen  in  difficult  times, 
when  religion  was  dishonoured  by  its  most  prominent 
representatives,  who  gave  their  benediction  and  ado- 
ration to  triumphant  force.  We  know  nothing  more 
beautiful  or  more  touching  than  the  conduct  of 
Arnaud  de  l'Ariege  at  the  time  of  the  December  coup 
d'etat.  He  was  not  content  with  showing  his  senti- 
ments by  associating  himself  with  every  attempt 
made  at  an  organised  resistance  ;  but  impressed  with 
the  feeling  that  it  became  the  highest  dignitary  of 
the  diocese  to  take  up  the  cause  of  outraged  liberty, 
he  implored  the  Archbishop  to  remonstrate  with  the 
Emperor  in  the  name  of  Christian  conscience.  It 
was  in  vain  that  he  exposed  his  heroic  wife  and  her 
new-born  child  to  the  perils  of  crossing  the  barri- 
cades, the  only  way  by  which  the  proscribed  deputy 
could  place  his  petition  in  the  hands  of  the  Arch- 
bishop. In  spite  of  all  his  efforts,  the  Te  Deum  was 
chanted  in  Notre  Dame  the  following  Sunday. 


128  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

Yet  further  disillusionising  awaited  Arnaud  de 
l'Ariege.  He  had  the  sorrow  of  seeing  the  little  band 
of  Liberal  Catholics  dwindling  day  by  day.  In  truth, 
he  had  been  always  in  advance  of  them  in  the  bold- 
ness and  generosity  of  his  views.  Lacordaire  was  not 
allowed  to  preach  again  from  the  pulpits  of  the  capital, 
after  his  impassioned  denunciation  of  the  coup  d'etat  in 
his  sermon  at  Saint-Roch.  Ozanam  died  before  his 
time,  consumed  by  the  fire  of  indignation  in  his  soul. 
In  the  universal  repression,  nothing  was  heard  but 
the  outrages  which  the  Ultramontanes,  who  had 
rallied  around  the  Emperor,  heaped  on  their  former 
friends,  who  would  not  acquiesce  in  saving  the  Church 
at  the  cost  of  her  honour.  After  the  Italian  war  the 
Roman  question  presented  itself  in  all  its  gravity,  and 
yet  further  divided  the  few  remaining  Liberal  Catho- 
lics. Arnaud  de  l'Ariege  pronounced  unhesitatingly 
against  the  temporal  sovereignty  of  the  Pope.  He 
maintained,  by  argument  and  from  history,  that  the 
Church  had  everything  to  lose  in  becoming  a  political 
power  of  the  ancien  regime. 

He  wrote  two  important  books  on  this  subject : 
"  L'independance  du  Pape  et  les  droit  des  Peuples," 
and  "  La  Papaute  Temporelle  et  la  Nationality 
Italienne."  It  is  almost  needless  to  say  that  Arnaud 
de  l'Ariege  was  one  of  the  defeated  party  in  the 
Vatican  Council.  He  had  thrown  himself  heart  and 
soul  into  the  opposition  made  to  the  new  dogma  by 
his  former  friends,  among  whom  he  had  the  joy  of 


ARNAUD  DE  L'ARIEGE.  129 

seeing  Montalembert.  Happily  this  great  man  was 
spared  the  pain  of  surviving  the  defeat  of  his  most 
cherished  convictions. 

The  bitterest  pang  for  Arnaud  de  l'Ariege  was  in 
witnessing  the  total  demolition  of  Liberal  Catholicism 
in  France.  Huet,  the  brave  disciple  of  Bordas-Des- 
moulin,  was  led  by  his  indignation  at  the  results  of 
the  Council  to  abjure  Christianity  altogether.  Silent 
acquiescence  enwrapped  like  a  shroud  all  that  generous 
and  ardent  phalanx  which  had  rallied  around  Lacor- 
daire.  Arnaud  de  l'Ariege  remained  what  he  had 
always  been — a  Christian  and  a  Liberal  ;  but  he  felt 
more  than  ever  isolated,  irritated  and  indignant  at  the 
excesses  of  triumphant  Ultramontanism.  He  could 
only  take  refuge  in  the  utterance  of  the  dying  Pascal  : 
Ad  tribunal  tuum,  Jesus  Christe,  appello. 

He  did  not  retract  any  of  his  early  opinions. 
These  have  found  their  most  complete  expression  in 
his  book,  "  La  Revolution  et  l£'glise,"  a  book  which 
breathes  throughout  the  spirit  of  Bordas-Desmoulin, 
and  which  is  dedicated  to  the  great  cause  of  the 
reconciliation  of  religion  and  liberty.  The  French 
Revolution  is  there  represented  as  the  legitimate 
offspring  of  Christianity,  which  reached  its  highest 
realisation  in  the  great  and  lasting  reforms  then 
achieved.  It  is  true  that  Arnaud  de  l'Ariege  dis- 
engages from  the  terrible  struggles  of  the  Revolution, 
the  new  and  fruitful  principle,  which  in  the  dust  and 
heat  of  the  conflict  was  often  lost  sight  of,  and  which 

10 


1 30  CONTEMPORA  R  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

has  been  strangely  misconceived  by  many  who  have 
professed  to  carry  on  the  same  work.     This  principle, 
as   he  understood    it,   was   the   entire   and    absolute 
separateness  of  the  civil  power  and  religion.     Pagan 
society  was  based   upon  the  opposite  principle.     It 
recognised   no    right    of    the   individual    conscience 
beyond   the  control  of  the  State.     Primitive  Chris- 
tianity vindicated  this  liberty  of  conscience,  and  the 
Church,  when  it  again  placed   religion  under  State 
control,    returned     to    the    principle    of    paganism. 
Hence   the  French   Revolution    showed    itself  more 
Christian  than  the  Church  of  the  old  regime.     Arnaud 
de  l'Ariege  carried  these  principles  to  their  furthest 
issues.     He  remained  always  a  declared  and  decided 
advocate   of   the   separation   of  Church   and    State, 
though  he  never  attempted  to  press  the  solution  of 
,this  difficult  problem  prematurely,  nor  to  lay  so  heavy 
a  burden  on  the  shoulders  of  our  young  Republic.    He 
went  so  far  in  the  direction  of  non-interference  that 
there   appeared   an  admirable  letter    in   the    Temps 
from  him,   earnest  Christian   as   he  was,  protesting 
against  the  vote  for  public  prayers  in  the  National 
Assembly.     He  could  not  bear  to  see  spiritual  things, 
which  are  purely  matters  of  conscience,  put  to  the 
vote   in   parliament.     When,  immediately   after    the 
24th  of  May,  a  fanatic  majority  approved  the  unquali- 
fied decree  of  the  Prefect  of  Lyons,  denouncing  civil 
burials,  Arnaud  de  l'Ariege  made  repeated  efforts  to 
gain  a  hearing ;  but  he  was  not  allowed  to  finish  his 


ARNAUD  DE  UARIEGE.  131 

eager  remonstrance  in  behalf  of  that  liberty  of  con- 
science which  formed  so  important  an  article  in  his 
religious  faith. 

Arnaud  de  l'Ariege  only  made,  to  our  knowledge, 
two  great  speeches  in  parliament,  both  in  reference  to 
the  law  for  liberty  of  teaching :  the  first  in  the  Legis- 
lative Assembly,  on  the  14th  of  February,  1850;  the 
other  in  the  National  Assembly,  on  the  14th  of  June, 
1 875.  Though  thus  divided  by  an  interval  of  a  quarter 
of  a  century,  we  find  in  both  speeches  the  same  doc- 
trines, deeply  Christian  and  daringly  Liberal.  Both 
express  the  same  conviction  of  the  necessity  of  keep- 
ing the  domain  of  the  State  distinct  from  that  of 
religion.  There  is  the  same  elevation  of  view,  the 
same  perception  of  what  will  be  the  most  glorious 
triumph  of  the  future. 

"  It  is  the  part  of  Christian  democracy,"  said  the 
young  Deputy  of  1850,  "however  unworthy  may  be 
its  organ  here,  to  define  clearly  and  decidedly  its  view 
on  this  question,  and  to  rise  above  prejudice  of  every 
kind — revolutionary  prejudice  no  less  than  that  of 
the  old  Conservative  parties.  The  most  distinctive 
and  essential  feature  of  the  Revolution,  is  the  limita- 
tion it  has  placed  to  the  domain  of  the  State.  The 
sovereign  to-day  has  no  longer  the  same  rights  as 
before  1789.  In  the  ancient  community  all  the 
rights  of  the  man  were  comprehended  in  those  of  the 
citizen.  When  Christianity  had  wrought  its  revolu- 
tion, the  freedom  of  man  was  asserted  in  matters  of 


132  CONTEMPORAR  Y  PORTRAITS. 

faith  and  of  religion.  It  is  this  freedom  which  is 
vindicated  in  the  principle  of  the  separation  of  the 
two  powers  in  religious  matters." 

From  this  principle  the  speaker  argued  the  incom- 
petence of  the  State  to  make  any  philosophical  or 
religious  teaching  obligatory,  so  that  he  could  turn 
round  to  the  Church  and  say :  "  The  State  recognises 
the  equal  rights  of  all  citizens  ;  there  is  no  Church 
with  which  it  can  treat  as  one  power  with  another. 
All  religions  are  free,  as  are  all  philosophical  opinions. 
You,  members  of  the  Church,  are,  in  the  eye  of  the 
law,  citizens  on  a  par  with  other  citizens  ;  but  in  the 
name  of  the  Church  you  have  no  rights.  I  do  not 
acknowledge  you.  I  declare  you  to  be  a  usurping 
power.  When  the  Church  intervenes  to  lend  its  aid 
to  the  State  in  fulfilling  its  duty  as  a  government, 
and  in  seeking  to  give  education  to  the  people,  I  de- 
clare that  it  goes  beyond  its  rights,  and  is  acting  in 
opposition  to  the  principle  which  is  at  the  basis  of 
our  democratic  system." 

The  Deputy  of  1875,  matured  by  the  trials  of  life, 
and  by  the  terrible  catastrophes  that  had  befallen  his 
country  (in  connection  with  which  he  rendered  emi- 
nent service  as  mayor  of  one  arrondissement  of  Paris 
during  the  siege),  used  the  same  language,  when  the 
Right,  having  formed  a  fresh  coalition,  endeavoured 
to  restore  and  extend  the  fatal  law  of  1850  for  public 
instruction.  On  one  point  only  he  speaks  somewhat 
less  positively.     While  still  maintaining  the   incom- 


ARNAUD  BE  IJARIEGE.  133 

petence  of  the   State  in   matters  of  philosophy  and 
religion,  he  admits  that  there  exists,  apart  from  the 
various   creeds    and    philosophic   systems,  a   certain 
common  stock  of  moral  ideas  which  form  a  sufficient 
basis  for  government  education.     He  recognises  also 
the   exclusive   right   of    the   civil    power   to    confer 
degrees  which  entitle  to  the  holding  of  public  offices  ; 
but  he  has  not  swerved  at  all  from  his  essential  con- 
victions, as  may  be  seen  from  the  following  extracts  : 
"  Whoever  argues,  whether  in  the  name  of  the  nation 
or  of  the  Church,  that   there   is   such  a  thing  as  a 
State  doctrine,  ignores  two  great  facts  in  the  world's 
history — first,  the  great  Christian  emancipation,  and 
then   the  great    French    Revolution,  which   was   the 
renovation  of  society.     This  great  emancipation  was 
radical    and    decisive,  just  because  it   gave   freedom 
to  the  conscience.     You  men  of  little  faith,  whether 
Christians   or    Rationalists,    if   you    were    really   in- 
fluenced on  the  one  hand  by  the  spirit  of  the  gospel, 
which   is   the  spirit   of   liberty   and  justice,  and    on 
the   other   hand    by    the    spirit   of    the    Revolution, 
which   is  the   very  same,   would    cease  to   stand   in 
dread   one  of   the  other.     We  must  be   careful  not 
to  mistake   the  movements  of  some   excited  minds, 
for  anti-religious  demonstrations.     People  are  apt  to 
think  that  the  antipathy  (often  very  strong)  of  the 
youth  of  France  to  the  clergy  indicates  an  irrecon- 
cilable hostility  to  the  Church. 

"  Let  me  ask  you  to  listen  to  a  remarkable  piece  of 


134  CONTEMPORARY  PORTRAITS. 

evidence  supplied  by  contemporary  history  on  this 
point.  In  1840,  in  the  great  hall  of  the  Sorbonne, 
an  eminent  priest,  a  professor  of  sacred  elocution, 
uttered  some  words  which  aroused  the  indignant  pro- 
testations of  his  hearers.  Was  it  hatred  to  the  priest 
that  stirred  their  youthful  blood  ?  You  shall  judge 
for  yourselves.  A  short  time  after,  the  same  elocu- 
cutionary  course  was  taken  up  by  a  new  professor  in 
the  same  great  amphitheatre  of  the  Sorbonne,  before 
the  same  youthful  auditory ;  and  the  new  professor  was 
received  with  enthusiastic  applause.  Why  this  con- 
trast ?  Why  did  the  one  arouse  a  tempest  of  indig- 
nation, and  the  other  restore  peace  and  confidence  in 
his  hearers  ?  Both  were  priests,  both  eloquent,  both 
illustrious.  Because  the  one — Abbe  Dupanloup — 
had  attacked  our  modern  liberties,  and  the  other — 
M.  Cceur — had  hailed  these  noble  conquests  in  the 
domain  of  freedom,  with  the  heart  of  a  true  patriot. 
It  is  this  spirit  of  liberty  which  must  be  cherished  in 
the  youth  of  France,  if  we  would  elevate,  purify,  and 
strengthen  the  fibre  of  the  nation.  It  is  not  by  vilify- 
ing our  newly-acquired  liberties  and  signing  protests 
against  them,  that  you  will  maintain  your  widespread 
and  powerful  influence." 

These  words  remain  as  the  parliamentary  testament 
of  this  noble  and  generous  soul.  And  it  shall  not  be 
unfulfilled.  The  religious  forms  under  which  he  saw 
in  vision  the  union  of  the  Church  with  modern  liberties, 
may   undergo  many    changes  in   the   future.     What 


ARNAUD  DE  VARIEGE.  135 

matter,  if  all  that  was  eternally  true,  Christian,  and 
liberal  in  his  policy  is  assured  of  final  victory?  No 
truth  can  ever  perish  ;  and  we  know  no  higher  truth 
in  relation  to  social  life  than  that  complete  enfranchise- 
ment of  the  conscience  which  Arnaud  de  l'Ariege 
proclaimed  to  be  at  once  the  first  consequence  of 
Christianity,  and  the  essential  idea  of  the  French 
Revolution.  This  principle  will  survive  all  the  calcu- 
lations of  parties.  Its  final  triumph  is  certain,  both 
in  religion  and  politics,  and  it  will  then  be  seen  that 
visionaries  like  Arnaud  de  l'Ariege  were  the  really 
practical  men  of  the  future.  He  has  not  to  wait, 
however,  the  vindication  of  history.  Universal  respect, 
blended  with  sincere  affection,  on  the  part  of  all  those 
who  knew  him  in  his  public  and  private  life,  is  the 
tribute  tendered  to  his  memory  to-day. 

Arnaud  de  l'Ariege  fought  much  and  suffered 
much  for  his  convictions  in  hard  and  troublous  times, 
without  being  ever  betrayed  into  personal  animosity, 
and  without  ever  having  to  retract  his  position.  It 
was  a  beautiful  life,  and  in  our  view  not  unsuccessful, 
though  he  died  without  having  seen  the  triumph  of 
his  cause. 


DUPANLOUP,  BISHOP  OF  ORLEANS. 


DUPANLOUP, 
BISHOP  OF  ORLEANS. 

IN  November,  1878,  the  Church  of  France  lost  the 
most  eminent  of  her  bishops.  The  long  career  of 
Mgr.  Dupanloup  is  a  sort  of  epitome  of  the  history  of 
French  Catholicism.  Born  in  Savoy  in  1802,  he  early 
attracted  attention  by  his  intelligence  and  energy, 
and  by  the  fervour  which  he  carried  into  all  that  he 
undertook.  Distinguished  as  a  catechist,  and  as  a 
pulpit  orator,  though  he  never  rose  to  the  rank  of 
such  men  as  Lacordaire  and  Ravignan,  he  was  chiefly 
remarkable  as  a  teacher  of  the  higher  Catholic 
doctrine.  As  a  leader,  he  had  among  his  followers 
eminent  and  even  royal  personages,  who  contributed 
not  a  little  to  extend  his  influence.  He  had  the 
honour  of  reconciling  Talleyrand  to  the  Church  on 
his  deathbed.  His  first  appearance  in  public  affairs 
was  on  the  occasion  of  the  famous  law  for  liberty  o 
teaching,  which  was  voted  in  1850  by  the  Legislative 
Assembly,  by  means  of  the  coalition  of  the  Catholics 
with  the  old  supporters  of  the  Orleanist  monarchy — 
two  parties  who,  as  Montalembert  said,  were  "  cast  by  a 


140  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

common  shipwreck  upon  the  same  raft."  Unhappily, 
the  liberty  thus  inaugurated  was  not  the  true  liberty, 
which  belongs  equally  to  all  citizens,  but  only  the 
liberty  of  the  holy  Catholic  Church,  which  had  as- 
sumed a  preponderating  share  in  the  direction  of  the 
University,  and  had  contrived  to  get  the  popular 
teaching  made  over  in  great  part  to  its  religious 
bodies.  Mgr.  Dupanloup,  who  was  their  Abbe,  took 
an  important  part  in  the  Commission  which  framed 
that  too  famous  law,  the  fruitful  parent  of  so  much 
evil  to  France. 

We  remember  meeting  him  at  this  time  in  one  of 
the  tribunes  of  the  Legislative  Assembly.  It  was  on 
the  day  when  M.  Thiers  had  given  his  support  to  the 
clerical  party,  of  which  till  then  he  had  been  such  a 
decided  opponent.  "  This  is  a  great  and  decisive  day 
for  that  man,"  said  Mgr.  Dupanloup.  He  little  thought 
that  at  the  close  of  his  career  he  would  be  the  leader 
of  Thiers'  most  determined  enemies,  fighting  against 
that  statesman's  liberal  and  truly  patriotic  policy. 

Abbe  Dupanloup  was  raised  soon  after  this  to  the 
see  of  Orleans.  There  he  revived,  as  far  as  he  could, 
the  traditions  of  Joan  of  Arc,  seeking  on  all  occa- 
sions to  combine  Catholicism  with  patriotism.  He 
was  made  in  a  short  time  a  member  of  the  French 
Academy,  in  recognition  of  his  numerous  writings  on 
education,  the  style  of  which  was  impassioned  rather 
than  brilliant,  as,  indeed,  were  all  the  productions  of  his 
pen.     He  now  entered  into  his  first  controversy  with 


DUPANLOUP,  BISHOP  OF  ORLEANS.  141 

the  Ultramontane  party,  who  had  attempted  to  pro- 
scribe the  Greek  and  Latin  classics,  on  the  pretext 
that  their  entirely  pagan  influence  was  dangerous. 
Dupanloup,  as  a  member  of  the  Academy,  vigo- 
rously opposed  this  new  invasion  of  barbarism  in  the 
field  of  literature.  He  belonged  at  this  time  altogether 
to  the  school  of  Liberal  Catholics,  like  Montalembert 
and  Lacordaire,  men  whose  great  aim  was  to  reconcile 
the  doctrine  of  the  Church  with  modern  society.  Into 
this  endeavour  he  entered,  like  them,  with  very  sincere 
religious  enthusiasm.  It  has  been  recently  reported 
that  in  the  chapel  of  the  Castle  of  Montalembert,  in 
Burgundy,  the  Bishop  of  Orleans  celebrated  at  this 
time  a  solemn  mass,  which  was  a  sort  of  vigil  of  the 
champions  of  Liberal  Catholicism,  on  the  eve  of  the 
conflict.  A  tablet  bearing  their  names,  with  the  in- 
scription, "  Pro  religione  et  libertate"  is  still  to  be  seen 
in  the  chapel. 

At  this  very  time  the  Ultramontane  party  was 
letting  loose  all  its  fury  against  Liberal  Catholicism, 
under  the  leadership  of  Louis  Veuillot,  the  great 
scoffer  of  the  age.  He  found  a  formidable  antagonist 
in  the  Bishop  of  Orleans,  who  replied  to  the  violent 
articles  of  the  Univers,  by  charges  which  were  admir- 
able for  their  freshness  and  vigour.  He  was  unques- 
tionably most  successful  in  these  fugitive  productions. 
On  one  point,  however,  he  agreed  with  his  Ultramon- 
tane opponents.  He  was  always  a  defender  of  the 
temporal  power  of  the  Holy  Father,  and  when  he  saw 


142  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

this  menaced  by  the  policy  of  Napoleon  III.,  he  threw 
all  his  energy  into  the  contest.  With  this  exception, 
he  spoke  and  wrote  as  a  Liberal.  Great,  then,  was 
the  astonishment  created  when,  after  the  appearance 
of  the  Encyclical  in  1864,  which  compelled  him  to 
abandon  all  that  he  had  previously  held  most  dear, 
he  published  an  apology  for  the  Syllabus.  The  sur- 
prise would  have  been  greater  still  if  it  had  been 
known  that  M.  Dupanloup  had  done  all  in  his  power 
in  Rome,  to  prevent  the  publication  of  this  same 
Syllabus,  which  he  afterwards  endeavoured  to  justify 
by  a  softening  and  modifying  interpretation.  We 
have  it  on  the  authority  of  M.  Guizot,  who  was  closely 
allied  with  Bishop  Dupanloup,  that  the  latter  spent 
his  utmost  strength  in  unavailing  efforts  to  prevent 
the  Roman  Curia  from  taking  so  imprudent  a  step. 

Our  perplexity  at  contradictions  like  these  will 
be  lessened,  if  we  consider  how  difficult  is  thorough 
honesty  under  a  religion  of  absolute  authority,  which 
allows  its  faithful  followers  no  alternative  but  feigned 
or  unfeigned  submission.  From  this  time  M.  Du- 
panloup was  far  less  liberal.  Instead  of  being 
satisfied  with  refuting  the  false  doctrines  of  mate- 
rialism, he  denounced  them  passionately  to  the  poli- 
tical bodies  then  in  power,  and  succeeded  by  his 
influence  in  closing  the  Academy  against  M.  Littre. 

When,  several  years  later,  the  author  of  the  great 
"  Dictionnaire  de  la  Langue  Francaise"  was  admitted 
on  the  ground  of  his  brilliant  literary  achievements 


DUPANLOUP,  BISHOP  OF  ORLEANS.  143 

Mgr.  Dupanloup  sent  in  his  resignation,  which  was 
never  either  accepted  or  withdrawn. 

In  spite  of  the  Syllabus,  and  of  his  famous  com- 
mentary on  it,  he  was  still  a  Gallican,  and  watched 
with  displeasure  the  preparations  for  proclaiming  the 
dogma  of  papal  infallibility.  On  the  eve  of  the 
Council  he  was  among  the  foremost  objectors.     In 

1869  he  made  himself  the  very  leader  of  the  oppo- 
sition, to  the  great  indignation  of  the  Ultramontanes. 
His  Catholic  apologists  of  to-day  draw  a  veil  of 
prudent  silence  over  this  period  of  his  life.  It  has 
not  been  forgotten,  however,  at  Rome,  for  in  resisting 
the  policy  of  the  Society  of  Jesus,  he  committed  the 
sin  for  which  there  is  no  forgiveness  either  in  this 
world  or  the  next.  Thus,  in  spite  of  his  submission, 
and  of  the  numberless  services  rendered  by  him  since 

1870  to  the  Catholic  cause,  he  never  obtained  the 
cardinal's  hat,  which  has  adorned  the  heads  of  the 
most  mediocre  men  of  the  French  episcopate.  Do 
what  he  might,  he  was  still  a  suspected  man,  and 
was  treated  as  such  by  the  papal  Nuncios  in  Paris. 

The  Nuncio  even  went  so  far  as  to  deplore  the  fall 
of  the  Republican  Ministry  on  the  24th  of  May,  be- 
cause he  feared  that  the  direction  of  ecclesiastical 
affairs  in  France  would  pass  to  Bishop  Dupanloup. 
And  yet,  from  the  time  the  Bishop  took  his  seat  in 
the  National  Assembly,  he  never  lost  an  occasion  to 
serve  those  who  so  repelled  him.  He  was  the  spokes- 
man in  the  famous  crusade  of  the  bishops  in  1871,  in 


144  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

favour  of  the  temporal  power.  He  took  the  leading 
part  in  the  discussion  of  the  laws  on  public  instruc- 
tion ;  especially  in  that  which  constituted  the  new 
Catholic  universities,  and  gave  them  the  right  to  con- 
fer degrees.  He  did  not  cease  to  denounce  severely 
all  false  doctrines,  without  being  over-careful  about 
the  correctness  of  his  quotations.  His  vehement  op- 
position to  the  celebration  of  the  Voltaire  centenary 
is  in  the  memory  of  all.  In  this  instance,  as  in  many 
others,  his  zeal  carried  him  beyond  all  bounds,  and 
made  him  blind  to  any  but  the  evil  aspects  of  that 
extraordinary  genius.  He  had  not  the  fairness  either 
to  recognise  Voltaire's  attempts  to  secure  toleration, 
or  to  admit  that  Christianity  was  presented  to  him 
only  under  the  hideous  mask  of  a  persecuting  religion, 
which  might  well  provoke  his  mockery  and  scorn. 
The  Bishop  of  Orleans  died  on  the  eve  of  fresh  con- 
flicts for  the  advancement  of  the  Church.  It  is  but 
just  to  him  to  say  that  he  never  gave  his  approval  to 
the  superstitious  vagaries  of  Ultramontane  pietism. 

Mgr.  Dupanloup  is  a  fair  representative  of  this 
troubled  period  of  French  Catholicism.  He  was 
tormented  by  self-contradictions,  which  he  never 
succeeded  in  reconciling ;  and  it  is  this  which  gives 
him  sometimes  an  appearance  of  insincerity.  In 
reality  he  does  not  deserve  the  imputation  ;  it  was 
his  position  that  was  false,  not  himself.  We  must 
remember,  moreover,  what  a  passionate  nature  his 
was.      Passion    was   expressed    in    the    high    colour 


DUPANLOUP,  BISHOP  OF  ORLEANS.  145 

of  his  countenance,  in  his  eager  gesture,  in  his 
speech,  impetuous  rather  than  eloquent,  and  weighted 
somewhat  with  the  laboured  rhetoric  of  the  schools. 
Even  as  an  old  man  he  would  walk  bareheaded 
to  cool  the  fever  in  his  veins  :  age  itself  could 
not  bring  him  serenity.  It  cannot  be  denied  that, 
during  his  later  years,  he  gravely  compromised  the 
cause  he  held  dear  by  his  controversial  rancour 
and  vehemence.  The  journal  which  breathed  his 
spirit,  La  Defense  Religiense,  was  one  of  the  worst 
organs  of  the  clerical  reaction.  There  can  be  no 
doubt  that  it  helped  to  bring  about  the  crisis  of  the 
24th  of  May,  for  in  our  day  prophecies  so  accurate 
and  exact  only  come  from  behind  the  scenes. 

But,  in  spite  of  all  his  errors,  Mgr.  Dupanloup 
remains  a  character  well  deserving  our  interest,  and 
perhaps  our  pity.  There  can  be  no  doubt  that  he 
suffered  much  in  the  sharp  mental  conflict  between 
his  early  liberal  convictions  and  the  directly  contrary 
conclusions  of  the  Vatican  Council.  In  the  dignity 
and  purity  of  his  private  life,  Mgr.  Dupanloup  merits 
all  respect,  and  during  the  war  he  showed  admirable 
courage  in  his  diocese  of  Orleans,  which  suffered 
terribly  from  the  invaders. 

He  liked  to  invite  to  the  representations  of  Greek 
tragedies,  which  were  given  in  his  little  Seminary,  the 
friends  of  high  classic  literature,  and  sometimes 
among  them  men  who  he  knew  had  very  little 
sympathy  with  clerical  education.      His  menage  was 

11 


146  CONTEMPORARY  PORTRAITS. 

simple  almost  to  austerity,  his  manners  frank  and 
cordial.  It  was  easy  to  talk  with  him  on  subjects  of 
literary  interest,  or  on  the  higher  themes  of  patriotism 
and  Christian  spirituality. 

The  Catholic  journals  extol  Dupanloup  as  a  great 
defender  of  religious  liberty.  This  encomium  he 
merits  less  than  any,  for  he  never  defended  any  but 
the  "  liberty  of  the  right."  He  was  the  declared 
enemy  of  every  legal  measure  that  proposed  to  give 
liberty  of  worship.  He  even  went  so  far  as  to  de- 
scribe the  honest  application  of  this  measure  to  non- 
Catholics,  as  subversive  of  society. 

The  Bishop  of  Orleans  was  the  brilliant  represen- 
tative of  Catholic  Liberalism,  both  in  its  earlier  phase 
of  imprudent  generosity,  and  in  its  later  period  of 
retractation  and  submission.  He  showed  by  his 
example,  how  great  a  sacrifice  is  exacted  from  its 
worshippers  by  the  idol  of  the  Vatican.  They  can- 
not satisfy  it  by  anything  short  of  an  apostasy  from 
Liberalism.  The  great  high  priests  of  Ultramon- 
tanism  are  not  content  even  with  this  apostasy ; 
they  have  no  forgiveness  even  for  those  who  repent. 
This  was  very  evident  in  the  strange  funeral  oration 
pronounced  by  M.  Veuillot  upon  Mgr.  Dupanloup. 
In  truth,  the  one  body,  the  Church,  is  divided  against 
itself,  and  the  fictitious  veil  of  absolute  unity  fails  to 
conceal  the  fact. 


ADOLPHE  MONOD. 


ADOLPHE  MONOD. 

THE  influence  of  ideas  on  the  drama  of  history  is 
in  no  way  circumscribed  by  the  smallness  of  the 
theatre  in  which  they  are  first  produced.  In  truth, 
they  rather  prepare  the  drama  than  appear  themselves 
as  the  actors  in  it.  Without  falling  into  the  fatalistic 
and  pantheistic  idealism  of  Hegel,  we  are  free  to 
recognise  that  the  movements  of  thought,  or  rather  of 
the  human  soul,  are  reproduced  in  the  domain  of  out- 
ward fact,  and  that  this  inner  history  is  not  governed 
by  the  strict  laws  of  logic,  but  is  enacted  with  the 
same  freedom  as  that  of  the  world  without.  Some- 
times it  is  in  an  upper  chamber,  as  at  Jerusalem, 
sometimes  in  a  monkish  cell,  as  at  Wittemberg,  that  a 
new  era  in  the  history  of  the  human  mind  takes  its 
rise,  like  a  great  river  which  has  its  hidden  source  in 
some  remote  mountain  region. 

Nothing  could  well  appear  more  insignificant  than 
the  French  Protestantism  of  our  day,  when  compared 
with  the  Catholicism  of  the  age,  so  ardent,  sometimes 
so  defiant,  always  so  skilful  in  swaying  the  masses 
of  the  people.     And  yet  this  insignificant  minority, 


1 50  CONTEMPORAR  V  FOR  TRAITS. 

so  long  ignored,  has  enjoyed  in  this  century  a  very 
intense  and  fruitful  religious  life.  The  ideas  which 
it  has  ventilated  and  helped  to  put  into  circula- 
tion in  the  intellectual  atmosphere  of  the  nineteenth 
century,  are  of  the  highest  importance  in  the  present 
religious  crisis,  and  are  such  as,  when  fully  developed, 
must  exercise  a  weighty  influence  on  the  mind  of  the 
age. 

It  must  be  remembered,  moreover,  that  French 
Protestantism  is  a  branch  of  that  great  moral  and 
intellectual  development  called  the  Reformation. 
This  left  its  impress  upon  a  great  portion  of  Europe 
and  of  the  world  ;  it  is  one  of  the  most  powerful 
factors  in  the  history  of  modern  times.  Everything 
relating  to  Protestantism  must,  then,  be  of  the  highest 
interest  to  all  who  rise  above  the  prejudice — shall  we 
call  it  Catholic  or  Chinese  ? — that  nothing  exists 
beyond  their  own  intellectual  boundaries.  I  may  add 
that  Protestantism  does  not  take  away  from  the 
French  mind,  those  peculiar  gifts  of  clearness  and  pre- 
cision which  make  it  so  powerful  an  instrument  in 
the  diffusion  of  ideas  ;  often,  indeed,  it  has  rather  the 
contrary  effect — stimulating  to  the  highest  and  purest 
exercise  of  all  the  mental  powers.  Thus  the  various 
tendencies  which  in  the  present  century  have  agitated 
the  Churches  of  the  Reformation  throughout  Europe, 
have  acquired  in  France  a  degree  of  definiteness 
which  has  accelerated  their  development,  either  pro- 
gressive  or   retrogressive.      The    history    of  French 


ADOLPHE  MO  NOD.  151 

Protestantism  has  told  upon  the  history  of  Protestant- 
ism generally,  and  hence  on  the  whole  history  of  the 
age,  as  we  shall  presently  show. 

If  we  attempt  to  characterise  the  Protestant  crisis 
of  the  nineteenth  century,  we  shall  find  that  the  issues 
raised  are  twofold  —  theological  and  ecclesiastical. 
The  faith  of  the  Reformation  had  everywhere  felt  the 
influence  of  the  eighteenth  century.  The  stormy 
wind  of  negation  had  swept  even  over  the  desert,  to 
which  the  heroic  army  of  the  French  Reformation  had 
fled,  broken  and  proscribed.  The  eighteenth  cen- 
tury had  scarcely  sunk  below  the  horizon  in  a  bed  of 
clouds  crimsoned  with  blood,  when,  aroused  by  such 
a  series  of  tragic  events  in  the  history  of  the  nations, 
religious  feeling  re-awoke  in  a  state  of  strong  excite- 
ment. This  re-awakening  produced  important  effects 
in  the  Catholic  Church,  and  Protestantism  felt  its 
influence  in  an  equal  degree.  The  revival  of  reli- 
gion is  the  characteristic  feature  of  the  commence- 
ment of  this  century.  In  Germany  it  became  blended 
with  speculation  and  mysticism  ;  in  England  it  drew 
yet  closer  the  bonds  of  the  narrow  orthodoxy  of 
the  seventeenth  century,  but  it  introduced  at  the 
same  time  a  devotional  fervour  and  missionary  zeal 
which  gave  it  a  marvellous  power  of  dissemination. 
When  peace  re-opened  the  Continent  to  the  influence 
of  England,  Protestantism  in  the  French-speaking 
countries  received  the  impress  of  the  religious  revival 
in  Great  Britain.     It  lost  nothing  in  its  transmission 


152  C  ONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

across  the  Channel,  of  either  its  fervent  zeal  or  its 
intolerant  dogmatism.  When  it  had  rallied  around 
its  banner  an  important  section  of  the  Protestants,  a 
struggle  was  inevitable  between  its  converts  and  the 
still  remaining  adherents  of  a  vague  and  meagre 
supernaturalism,  who,  having  suffered  so  much  persecu- 
tion themselves,  made  tolerance  the  prime  article  of 
their  creed.  The  controversy  which  thus  arose  was 
at  once  religious  and  ecclesiastical.  It  was  not  enough 
to  establish  the  just  claims  of  orthodoxy ;  it  was 
needful  also  to  vindicate  its  rights  in  the  Church. 
This  attempt  brought  to  light  all  the  complications  of 
the  ecclesiastical  problem. 

It  is  not  my  intention  to  retrace  the  history  of 
French  Protestantism  in  the  nineteenth  century.  I 
shall  only  attempt  to  show,  through  some  of  its 
noblest  representatives,  the  principal  phases  of  the 
religious  revival  of  our  age.  After  the  first  days  of 
rapturous  fervour,  we  shall  find  the  earnest  spirits  of 
the  French  revival  entering  on  a  path  of  develop- 
ment, in  which  they  keep  pace  more  or  less  closely 
with  the  evangelical  and  liberal  school  beyond  the 
Rhine.  Their  first  advances  in  this  direction  are 
made  with  timid  steps,  in  fear  lest  they  should  wound 
sensitive  consciences,  or  do  injustice  to  the  absorbing 
claims  of  missionary  activity. 

Adolphe  Monod  represents  the  early  phase  of  the 
religious  revival,  with  a  happy  blending  of  holy  aus- 
terity and  brilliant  natural  endowments.     The  remark- 


ADOLPHE  MONOD.  153 

able  feature  in  his  life  is  that  he  at  first  espoused,  heart 
and  soul,  the  theology  of  the  religious  awakening  of  the 
commencement  of  the  century,  without,  however, falling 
into  its  theoretical  or  practical  extravagances.  Against 
these  his  high  moral  and  intellectual  qualities  always 
proved  a  sufficient  safeguard.  A  change,  however, 
soon  became  apparent  in  his  theological  opinions. 
This  change  was  as  decided  as  it  was  moderate,  and 
to  the  very  close  of  his  life  we  find  him  becoming 
more  and  more  liberal  and  large-hearted.  It  is  inte- 
resting to  trace  his  growing  aspirations  after  a  broader 
and  more  enlightened  theology,  blended  as  they  are 
always  with  the  most  profound  and  earnest  piety.  In 
the  great  heart  of  Adolphe  Monod  strict  orthodoxy 
.was  forced  to  expand  under  the  strong  pressure  of 
Christian  feeling,  as  the  mould  which  becomes  too 
strait  for  it,  is  broken  by  the  precious  metal  in  a  state 
of  fusion. 

In  the  case  of  Verny  and  of  Robertson,  the  crisis 
by  which  their  doctrinal  views  were  transformed,  was 
more  severe  and  more  painful  in  its  character,  so  that 
it  becomes  a  study  of  pathetic  interest.  In  the  case 
of  Vinet,  it  was  a  gradual  process  of  fuller  develop- 
ment, and  his  faith  flowed  on  in  a  quiet  and  even 
channel,  like  a  stream  no  longer  shut  in  between 
banks  too  narrow  for  it. 

We  have  thus  in  these  three  men  —  all  leading 
spirits — three  epochs  or  phases  of  the  history  of  the 
religious  revival,  which  will  not  have  accomplished  its 


1 54  CONTEMPORAR  Y  POR  TRAITS. 

full  work  in  France,  till  the  Church  has  been  made 
absolutely  free  by  it,  both  in  its  doctrine  and  institu- 
tions. Not  till  then  will  Christianity  be  able  truly  to 
fulfil  its  mission  in  a  democratic  society  which  feels 
the  want  of  adequate  spiritual  guidance. 

I  shall  attempt  nothing  more  than  a  sketch  of 
Adolphe  Monod,  as  of  Vinet  and  Verny.  We  hope 
that  Monod's  family,  who  have  already  done  so  much 
for  the  publication  of  his  works,  will  give  us  the 
complete  biography  so  much  desired  by  his  admirers. 

The  materials  of  this  biographical  study  are  de- 
rived chiefly  from  Adolphe  Monod's  own  writings. 
I  have  also  drawn  largely  on  my  personal  re- 
collections, for  I  had  the  privilege  of  knowing 
Adolphe  Monod  from  my  childhood,  and  of  being, 
in  later  days,  honoured  with  his  friendship.  I  have 
constantly  before  me,  in  memory,  his  earnest,  expres- 
sive face.  How  vividly  can  I  recall  him  in  the  in- 
timacy of  the  home  circle,  beaming  with  love,  but 
somewhat  reserved  and  silent  ;  in  the  pulpit,  with  the 
flashes  of  his  brilliant  eloquence  lighting  up  his  whole 
face  ;  or  in  the  professor's  chair,  with  the  calm  patience 
of  the  master,  gravely  solicitous  for  his  pupils'  good. 
Last  of  all,  upon  his  deathbed,  when  suffering  had 
set  its  crowning  seal  upon  his  pallid  brow.  In  the 
case  of  such  a  preacher,  such  an  apostle,  his  words 
give  us  the  man  himself,  so  truly  do  they  express  the 
purity  and  earnestness  of  his  moral  life.  The  writings 
he  has  left  enable  us  to  trace  his  thought,  from  its 


ADOLPHE  MO  NOD.  155 

very  first  inspiration,  through  all  its  various  stages  of 
development,  to  catch,  as  it  were,  the  prayer  for  light 
that  rises  from  the  seeker  after  truth.  Some  publi- 
cations that  have  long  been  out  of  print,  such  as  the 
addresses  delivered  by  him  on  his  admission  to  the 
theological  faculty  of  Montauban,  and  some  occa- 
sional pamphlets,  have  supplied  us  with  valuable 
information. 

Adolphe  Monod  had  not  an  imposing  presence.  He 
was  of  middle  height  and  his  features  were  irregular  ; 
but  they  bore  the  impress  of  high  moral  qualities, 
enhanced  by  the  pervading  melancholy  peculiar  to 
great  minds.  His  smile,  however,  illuminated  his 
whole  face,  and  when  he  was  speaking,  his  eloquence 
seemed  to  transfigure  him  as  it  does  all  great  masters 
of  the  art.  His  gesture  was  perfect ;  and  I  have  heard 
no  other  voice  but  Berryer's  of  so  harmonious  and 
penetrating  a  tone. 

Adolphe  Monod  remains  one  of  the  noblest  names 
on  the  roll  of  French  Protestantism,  surpassed  by 
none  in  the  disinterestedness  and  largeness  of  heart 
and  mind  with  which  he  served  the  cause  of  Christ. 
So  high  has  he  been  raised  by  the  admiration  and 
gratitude  of  Christendom,  that  he  may  be  said  to 
belong  to  the  whole  Evangelical  Church  of  our  day. 
If  Catholic  or  free-thinking  France  had  been  animated 
by  a  more  liberal  spirit,  it  would  not  have  been  satis- 
fied with  the  vague  echo  of  an  illustrious  name  coming 
to  it  across  the  Atlantic ;    it  would   have  itself  be- 


156  CONTEMPORAR  V  FOR  TRAITS. 

stowed  upon  him  literary  honours.  But  these  were 
matters  of  indifference  to  him  ;  his  ambition  took  a 
higher  range. 


I. 

Adolphe  Monod  was  born  at  Copenhagen,  January 
21,  1802.  His  father,  a  native  of  the  Canton  de  Vaud, 
was  pastor  of  the  French  church  formed  by  the  Pro- 
testant refugees  after  the  revocation  of  the  Edict  of 
Nantes.  A  man  of  the  utmost  integrity,  as  well  as 
a  facile  and  eloquent  orator,  M.  Monod,  the  father, 
was  held  in  most  affectionate  esteem  both  in  Copen- 
hagen and  in  Paris,  and  exercised  a  wide  popular 
influence.  He  held  the  opinions  current  in  the  Pro- 
testant Church  of  his  time  both  in  Geneva  and  in 
France.  His  was  a  warm  and  sentient  piety,  tender 
and  benevolent  in  spite  of  its  theological  rigour,  and 
more  adapted  to  sustain  than  to  enkindle  religious 
life  in  the  soul.  He  was  always  tolerant.  He  did 
much  honour  to  Protestantism  in  the  great  Reformed 
Church  of  Paris,  in  which  he  exercised  a  long  and 
valued  ministry  soon  after  the  establishment  of  the  Re- 
formed religion  by  the  First  Consul.  Nothing  could  be 
more  beautiful  than  the  family  life  of  this  patriarch 
of  noble  and  venerable  appearance,  surrounded  by  his 
twelve  children,  all  strongly  attached  to  each  other. 
Madame  Monod  (nee  De  Coninck)  was,  as  her  name 
indicates,  a  Dane.     She  was  the  very  type  of  a  Chris- 


ADOLPHE  MO  NOD. 


157 


tian  wife  and  mother,  and  the  light  and  joy  of  her 
family  circle. 

Adolphe  Monod  thus  grew  up  in  an  atmosphere  of 
purity,  of  affection,  and  of  truly  classic  intellectual 
culture.  He  learned  from  his  father  to  speak  that 
correct  and  luminous  language  of  the  best  French 
school,  which  he  was  afterwards  to  turn  to  such  good 
account.  At  Geneva,  whither  he  went  to  enter  on  his 
studies  in  the  university,  preparatory  to  the  ministry 
of  the  gospel,  he  adopted  the  theology  current  at  the 
time,  at  least  in  countries  where  the  French  tongue 
was  spoken,  a  theology  without  depth,  and  amounting 
to  little  more  than  a  vague  supernaturalism.  It  was 
indefinite  alike  in  its  negations  and  affirmations.  The 
divinity  of  Christ  was  ignored  rather  than  denied.  It 
would  have  been  dangerous  in  France  formally  to  re- 
pudiate this  article  of  faith.  Creeds  still  existed  in 
the  letter  but  not  in  the  spirit — like  the  ark  without 
the  tables  of  the  covenant.  That  which  had  es- 
pecially dropped  out  of  the  religious  teaching  and 
piety  of  the  day,  was  that  deep  conviction  of  the 
the  misery  and  impotence  of  man,  which  brings 
sinners  to  the  foot  of  the  cross,  there  to  receive  for- 
giveness and  new  life  from  the  sovereign  grace  of 
God.  Justification  by  faith  had  been  more  than  the 
central  doctrine  of  the  Reformation  ;  it  had  been  its 
great  moral  and  religious  lever.  That  lever  had  now 
ceased  to  act.  Men  thought  themselves  set  right  with 
God  by  the  mere  practice  of  human  virtue,  combined 


158  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

with  certain  exact  observances  of  piety  and  a  sincere 
veneration  for  historic  Protestantism. 

Adolphe  Monod  himself  subsequently  described  this 
attitude  of  the  Reformed  Church  of  France,  painting 
it  perhaps  in  somewhat  too  strong  colours. 

"  The  doctrine  of  works,"  he  said,  "  took  possession 
of  our  academies,  our  pulpits,  our  pastors,  our  flocks. 
Our  confession  of  faith  was  forgotten,  our  discipline 
set  aside.  The  voice  of  the  Synods  was  silent.  The 
spirit  of  the  age,  the  philosophy  of  the  day,  took  the 
place  of  the  spirit  of  the  Bible.  Faith  was  eclipsed, 
and  knowledge  hid  its  face.  Since  the  Bible  was  to 
be  less  consulted  than  the  spirit  of  the  age,  what  in- 
ducement was  there  to  study  deeply  the  meaning  of 
the  Bible,  when  slight  and  superficial  studies  sufficed 
to  give  an  initiation  into  the  current  philosophy  ? 
Science  went  out  of  vogue  among  our  clergy.  Instead 
of  preachers  like  Dumoulin,  Dubose,  Bailli  and  Claude, 
our  pulpits  were  filled  with  men  of  no  enlightenment 
of  mind.  Hence  the  Reformed  Church  of  France 
lost  all  consideration  as  a  Church.  As  a  social,  in- 
dustrial, political,  moral  body,  it  was  still  respected,  but 
as  a  Church  it  forfeited  all  claim  to  regard.  Hence 
arose  among  the  Catholics,  the  false  notion  that  the 
Protestant  Church  does  not  believe  in  Jesus  Christ, 
and  unbelieving  Catholics  were  known  to  wish  them- 
selves Protestants,  that  they  might  be  deists."1 


1  "  La  Destitution  d'Adolphe  Monod,"  p.  100. 


ADOLPHE  MO  NOD.  159 

At  Geneva,  Adolphe  Monod  was  a  conscientious 
student.  He  carried  into  his  studies  the  natural 
vigour  of  his  mind.  He  traces  to  this  period  the 
commencement  of  that  religious  crisis  which  was  to 
end  in  his  conversion.  This  result,  however,  as  we 
shall  presently  see,  was  not  reached  till  he  went  to 
Naples.  His  brother  Frederic  had  a  considerable 
share  in  this  great  spiritual  and  intellectual  trans- 
formation. Three  distinguished  men  exerted  a 
decided  influence  upon  him,  as  he  himself  tells  us  in 
a  letter  written  during  his  last  illness.  We  quote  this 
as  the  most  reliable  source  of  information  on  this 
interesting  subject. 

"  There  are  three  friends  whose  names  I  love  to 
associate,  because  they  were  all  three  at  different  times 
greatly  helpful  to  me  in  my  conversion.  I  wish  to 
testify  my  gratitude  to  them  to-day,  when  I  am  ex- 
pecting so  soon  to  leave  this  world  and  go  to  the 
Father,  and  when  all  my  consolation  is  derived  from 
the  faith  they  taught  me.  These  three  friends  are 
Louis  Gaussen,  Charles  Scholl,1  and  Thomas  Erskine. 

"The  first  produced  a  gradual  impression  upon  my 
mind  by  his  benevolent  life,  by  his  preaching,  and  by 
his  devout  conversation.  The  second,  with  whom  I 
had  less  prolonged  intercourse,  presented  the  gospel  to 
me  in  a  practical  aspect  so  attractive,  and  at  the  same 
time  so  wise  and  true,  that  he  won  my  heart  to  it. 

1  Charles  Scholl  was  pastor  of  the  French  Church  in  London, 
and  subsequently  of  the  Free  Church  at  Lausanne. 


160  CONTEMPORARY  PORTRAITS. 

The  third,  at  Geneva,  removed  my  intellectual  pre- 
judices by  showing  me  the  harmony  between  the 
gospel  and  sacred  philosophy ;  and  afterwards,  at 
Naples,  he  put  the  finishing  touch  to  the  work,  in  so 
far  as  man's  influence  was  concerned,  by  the  example 
of  his  perfect  peace  and  tender  love  towards  all  men. 
I  shall  never  forget  our  walks  on  the  Capo  di  Monte, 
nor  the  tone  in  which,  as  we  watched  the  sun  going 
down  over  the  magnificent  Bay  of  Naples,  he  ex- 
claimed, 'Truly  the  light  is  sweet ;  and  a  pleasant  thing 
it  is  for  the  eyes  to  behold  the  sun  ! ' 

"These  three  friends,  to  whom  I  address  these  lines, 
were  called  by  God  to  exercise  over  me  a  joint  influ- 
ence, in  which  each  unwittingly  supplied  what  was 
lacking  in  the  others. 

"  I  render  first  all  glory  to  God,  and  then  I  say 
to  them,  that  my  heart  glows  with  love  for  them,  and 
that  I  pray  God  to  enrich  them  with  His  choicest 
blessings  in  life  and  in  death,  and  to  spare  them,  if  it 
may  be  so,  the  furnace  of  suffering  through  which 
His  mercy  has  called  me  to  pass. 

"At  the  same  time  I  commend  myself  to  their 
prayers,  that  they  may  crown  all  the  good  they  have 
already  done  me,  by  asking  for  me  grace  so  that  my 
patience  may  not  fail,  but  that  I  may  glorify  God  to 
the  very  end,  though  my  sufferings  abound  more  and 
more."  r 

1  This  letter  has  appeared  in  Erskine's  "Correspondence," 
published  in  Edinburgh. 


ADOLPHE  MO  NOD.  161 

Erskine,  the  gentle  and  profound  mystic,  of  broad 
and  enlightened  views,  exercised  a  most  beneficial  in- 
fluence over  the  Christians  of  his  generation.  His  teach- 
ing produced  a  deep  impression  upon  the  Duchesse  de 
Broglie,  who  knew  him  at  this  time.     He  soared  far 
above  the  rigid  orthodoxy  of  the  day,  into  the  pure 
heights   of  heaven,  opened   by  the  Apostle  John  to 
the  Christian  soul.      He  tempered  the  somewhat  too 
severe  dogmatism  of  M.  Gaussen,  the  eminent  pastor 
and  professor,    especially  in    reference  to  the  inspi- 
ration of  the  Scriptures.     Adolphe  Monod  doubtless 
owed  to  him  his  escape  from  the  irksome  fetters  of 
narrow  English    Evangelicalism.      It   is   clear,   how- 
ever, that   it  was   the    experience  of  his  ministry  at 
Naples  which  led  to  the  decisive  changes  in  his  life. 
He   became  in    1826   the   first   pastor  of  a   French 
colony  in  that  city,  and  it  was  when  he  was  called  for 
the  first  time  to    fulfil  the  serious  duty  of  instruct- 
ing men  in  religious  truth,  that   he   was  startled  to 
discover  how  inadequate  were  his  own    convictions. 
He  then  passed  through  the  great  crisis  of  his  spiritual 
life.     He  does  not  appear  to  have  been  diverted  for 
a  moment  from   his   earnest   quest  of  truth,  by  the 
magical  beauty  of  the  land  in  which  his  lot  was  cast, 
where  ancient  art  lives  again  in  the  immortal  youth 
of  Italian    nature,   and   under   the   smile   of  its   un- 
rivalled sky.     Like  Paul  at  Athens,  he   heeded  not, 
the  enchantment  of  the  outward  and  visible  things 
in  the  passionate  eagerness   of  his  search  after  the 


1 62  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

invisible,  and  to  him  as  yet  almost  unknown  God, 
whom  he  would  fain  declare  to  men.  He  found  Him 
after  an  agonizing  spiritual  conflict.  There  was  in- 
describable bitterness  to  him  in  the  discovery  that  all 
which  he  had  hitherto  taken  for  piety  was  really 
worthless  in  the  sight  of  God.  Trembling  beneath 
those  thunders  of  a  broken  law,  under  which  in  after 
days  he  so  often  made  his  hearers  quail,  he  took  his 
place  with  the  publican  and  the  woman  who  was  a 
sinner  at  the  feet  of  Jesus.  Faith  in  a  crucified  Saviour 
alone  calmed  and  uplifted  him.  There  is  no  moral 
revolution  more  wonderful  than  that  which  is  effected 
when  a  sincere  Pharisee  takes  his  place  by  the  side 
of  the  lying  publican,  smiting,  like  him,  on  his  breast, 
and  crying,  "  God  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner  !  "  It 
was  a  crisis  like  this  which  transformed  the  disciple 
of  Gamaliel  into  the  apostle  of  a  free  salvation. 

Adolphe  Monod  has  left  no  other  record  of  this 
phase  of  his  life  than  that  which  we  find  in  his 
preaching.  Although  he  never  indulges  in  personal 
allusions,  we  find  abundant  traces  of  that  spiritual 
tempest  which  first  plunged  him  into  the  depths  of 
despair,  and  then  cast  him,  trembling  with  joy,  upon 
the  Rock. 

In  his  early  discourses  on  the  misery  of  man  and 
the  mercy  of  God,  there  is  no  word  about  himself; 
and  yet  how  clearly  they  reveal  that  the  writer  had 
been  passing,  like  Pascal,  through  one  of  those  soul- 
vigils,  one   of  those  wrestlings  all  the   night,  which 


ADOLPHE  MO  NOD.  163 

leave  the  combatant,  to  use  Monod's  own  words, 
vainqtietir,  mats  tout  meurtri  ;  tout  meurtri,  mais 
vainqueur. 

Can  we  not  catch  an  echo  of  the  bitterness  of  soul 
through  which  he  himself  had  passed,  in  this  con- 
cluding passage  of  his  first  sermon  ? 

"  O  God  !  who  humblest  only  that  Thou  mayest  lift  up,  who 
troublest  only  to  calm,  who  dost  shake  only  to  stablish  and 
settle,  we  bow  to  the  sentence  which  condemns  us.  We  accept 
it  with  penitence  and  tears.  Hide  nothing  from  us  of  our  misery. 
Shed  abroad  in  our  souls  Thy  pure  and  searching  light,  that  we 
may  see  ourselves  as  we  truly  are  !  And  at  such  a  sight  let 
there  rise  at  once  from  this  whole  congregation,  a  cry  of  surprise 
and  anguish  which  shall  rend  the  atmosphere  of  indifference 
around  us,  which  shall  reach  Thy  ear  and  move  Thy  fatherly 
compassion  towards  us,  so  that,  renouncing  henceforward  all 
our  self-esteem,  humbled  with  a  deep  humility,  believing  with  a 
simple  faith,  we  may  yield  ourselves  unreservedly  to  Thy  love, 
to  be  raised  out  of  the  depth  of  our  misery  by  the  depth  of  Thy 
mercy." l 

Where  has  the  writer  found  those  sombre  colours 
in  which  he  depicts  the  self-condemnation  of  the 
sinner,  if  not  in  the  sacred  terrors  of  conscience  ?  It 
might  have  been  said  of  him  still  more  than  of  the 
great  Florentine  poet,  that  he  had  gone  down  into 
the  lower  world,  so  thrillingly  does  he  describe  the 
ever  -  deepening  horrors  awaiting  the  unconverted, 
like  those  enormous  cavities  sometimes  found  in  a 
vast  abyss,  whose  gloomy  profundities  go  down  into 
the  very  bowels  of  the  earth.  2     He  confesses  to  the 

1  Sermon  by  Adolphe  Monod,  p.  42.     Paris  Edit.  18 18. 

2  Sermons,  vol.  i.  p.  377. 


1 64  CONTEMPORAR  Y  PORTRAITS. 

ardent  desire  he  felt  for  a  long  time  to  escape  from 
this  doctrine  of  perdition.  He  could  only  bring 
himself  to  submit  to  it,  he  says,  "  with  bowed  head 
and  laying  his  hand  upon  his  mouth." 

This  is  not  the  place  for  us  to  inquire  whether  he 
did  not,  in  the  ardour  of  his  new  conversion,  go 
beyond  the  teaching  of  the  gospel  on  this  important 
point.  We  are  now  only  describing  the  psychological 
crisis  which  made  a  new  man  of  him.  We  find  the 
same  tone  of  deep  experience  in  his  early  writings  on 
the  work  of  redemption. 

"  The  marble  of  my  heart  has  been  broken ! "  he  exclaims. 
"  O  my  God  !  what  love,  what  love !  And  yet  I  see  only  its 
utmost  edge.  It  is  an  abyss  into  the  depths  of  which  I  cannot 
look.  But  even  in  that  which  I  do  behold,  I  discern  a  love  that 
passes  knowledge  ;  and  in  those  depths  which  as  yet  are  hidden 
from  me,  my  soul  foreshadows  a  love  which  baffles  thought, 
which  confounds  and  absorbs  my  whole  being.  Redeemed  at 
such  a  price  I  am  no  more  my  own,  and  to  Him  I  give  all  my 
heart  ! " 

Are  we  not  reminded  by  words  like  these  of  the 
sublime  utterance  of  Pascal  in  his  hour  of  holy 
rapture  :  "  God  of  Abraham,  of  Isaac,  and  of  Jacob  ! 
.  .  .  Not  of  the  philosophers  and  learned  men.  .  .  . 
Assurance,  assurance,  love,  joy,  peace !  .  .  .  God  of 
Jesus  Christ !  .  .  .  " 

II. 

Still  thrilling  with  the  emotion  of  this  great 
spiritual  conflict,  and  glowing  with  his  first  love  and 


ADOLPHE  MONOD,  165 

zeal,  Adolphe  Monod,  at  hardly  twenty  -  five  years 
of  age,  was  called  in  1828  to  the  pastorate  of  the 
great  Reformed  Church  of  Lyons.  A  conflict  was 
inevitable.  Beneath  an  austere  demeanour  he  carried 
a  soul  of  fire,  an  indomitable  spirit ;  and  his  youth 
lent  both  to  his  convictions  and  words  a  tone  of 
somewhat  undue  positiveness  and  exaltation.  This 
was  only  strengthened  by  the  opposition  which  he 
encountered,  though  he  never  allowed  a  touch  of 
spleen,  or  of  wounded  self-love  to  give  added 
vehemence   to   his   convictions. 

It  may  be  said  that  throughout  this  long  con- 
troversy Adolphe  Monod  had  no  thought  of  himself; 
that  his  sole  concern  was  for  what  he  believed  to  be 
the  cause  of  truth  and  sound  doctrine.  The  crisis 
was  hastened  and  rendered  more  formidable  by  his 
remarkable  power  as  an  orator,  which  made  in- 
difference impossible. 

His  eloquence  was  not  only  the  forcible  expression 
of  his  holiest  convictions,  but  reflected  all  the  passion- 
ate ardour  of  his  soul.  The  incompatibility  between 
the  young  preacher  and  his  new  church  was  radical 
and  complete.  We  have  no  wish  to  rekindle 
the  smouldering  embers  of  old  quarrels  ;  and  we 
would  not  forget  that  the  historical  events  which  pro- 
foundly affected  French  Protestantism  generally  at 
the  beginning  of  the  century,  pressed  with  peculiar 
weight  upon  the  Church  of  Lyons.  M.  Martin- 
Paschoud,  the  pastor  who  took  the  most  prominent 


1 66  CONTEMPORAR  Y  POR  TRAITS. 

part  in  these  stormy  controversies,  has  left  a  memory 
which  we  ourselves  cherish  with  well  -  deserved  re- 
spect and  affection.  However  widely  we  may  have 
differed  on  points  of  doctrine  and  ecclesiastical  policy, 
we  always  found  him  full  of  ready  and  right-minded 
sympathy  on  all  questions  affecting  the  public  welfare. 
His  generosity  of  heart  and  mind  endeared  him  to  a 
circle  far  wider  than  that  of  Protestantism. 

We  will  not  dwell  on  the  painful  incidents  of  the 
internal  history  of  the  Church  of  Lyons,  at  this 
already  remote  period,  except  so  far  as  is  absolutely 
necessary  in  order  to  explain  the  position  taken  by 
Adolphe  Monod.  It  may  suffice  to  say  that  nowhere 
was  the  eclipse  of  the  old  reformed  faith  at  this  time 
more  complete  than  among  the  Protestants  of  this 
great  city.  They  were  distinguished,  like  all  their 
co-religionists,  for  probity  and  morality ;  they  be- 
longed to  the  higher  class  of  the  bourgoisie,  and  were 
regarded  everywhere  with  all  the  consideration  due  to 
their  character  and  to  their  high  commercial  status. 
They  were  accustomed  to  the  most  moderate  religious 
teaching,  of  the  order  of  the  Savoyard  vicar  rather  than 
of  Calvin.  A  correct  worldliness  had  at  this  time 
free  play.  Never  had  these  good  folks  heard  such  a 
thing  mentioned  as  the  necessity  of  repentance,  and 
the  worthlessness  in  God's  sight  of  their  good  works, 
which  they  associated  with  their  almsgivings  in  the 
category  of  virtue.  We  can  easily  understand  the 
indignant  astonishment  with  which  they  heard  the  first 


ADOLPHE  MONOD.  167 

sermons  of  their  new  pastor.  This  young  man,  with 
the  pale  brow  and  the  thrilling  voice,  made  a  direct 
assault  on  all  their  received  ideas,  and  shook  all  their 
prejudices.  He  began  by  proclaiming  plainly  that 
the  virtuous  themselves  have  need  of  pardon,  and  he 
threatened  them  with  the  judgments  of  God  no  less 
than  the  people  of  evil  life  on  whom  they  looked  down 
with  scorn.  He  drove  their  human  pride  from  one 
hiding-place  to  another,  till  at  length  he  denounced  it 
at  that  very  intellectual  and  moral  height  at  which  it 
felt  itself  safe,  and  secure  of  all  the  rewards  of  heaven. 
The  new  preacher  thus  raised  very  urgent  personal 
questions  in  an  audience  accustomed  to  be  left  unmo- 
lested in  its  calm  repose.  Thus  in  his  sermon,  "  Can 
you  die  happy?"  his  powerful  arguments  disturbed 
the  most  easy-going  consciences.  To  these  wavering 
minds,  satisfied  with  a  religion  of  sentiment,  which 
was  often  nothing  more  than  theism  disguised  under 
a  traditional  outward  observance,  the  earnest  disciple 
of  the  religious  awakening  preached  the  necessity  of  a 
clear  and  definite  belief,  in  his  sermon  on  "  Sanctifica- 
tion  by  the  truth."  The  offence  was  aggravated  by 
the  unquestionable  power  and  ability  of  the  new 
preacher,  which  made  it  impossible  to  remain  unmoved 
and  lukewarm  under  his  teaching.  The  opposition  was 
at  first  vague ;  then  it  took  positive  shape,  and  a 
majority  of  the  Church  and  of  the  Consistory  decided 
to  request  the  removal  of  the  obnoxious  innovator. 
We  will  not  go  into  all  the  details  of  this  obstinate 


168  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

controversy,  in  which  the  meekest  of  men  appeared  the 
most  intractable,  because  he  felt  it  a  matter  of  con- 
science to  resist.1 

He  was  unquestionably  right  in  his  refusal  to  yield 
to  the  solicitations  made  to  him  to  alter  or  modify  his 
preaching.  To  do  so  would  have  been  to  belie  his 
convictions.  He  was  perfectly  justified  in  appealing 
to  the  ancient  constitution  of  the  Reformed  Church 
to  prove  that  he  was  no  innovator,  that  he  was,  in 
fact,  simply  recalling  the  Church  to  her  old  tradi- 
tions as  still  embodied  in  her  liturgies.  He  was  in- 
vincible so  long  as  he  kept  to  this  position.  His 
speeches  in  his  own  defence  in  the  Consistory  are 
models  of  eloquent  argument.  Never  did  a  witness 
of  the  truth  appeal  more  forcibly  to  the  sacred 
obligation  of  confessing  the  whole  truth  as  he 
himself  believed  it.  In  the  Session  of  the  Consistory 
held  April  24,  1827,  he  said  : 

"As  a  doctor  does  not  choose  the  remedies  most  agreeable  to 
his  patients,  but  those  most  needful,  which  are  also  often  to  the 
taste  the  most  unpleasant,  so  I  do  not  choose  that  which  may- 
please  my  hearers,  who  are  my  patients,  but  that  which  may  do 
them  good.  I  am  willing  to  consult  the  taste  of  the  majority  on 
all  points  where  conscience  is  not  involved,  as  in  my  mode  of 
living,  in  my  manner,  in  my  forms  of  speech,  but  I  cannot  be 
guided  in  the  choice  of  my  principles  by  the  plurality  of  votes. 
In  matters  of  principle  I  have  no  right  of  choice  at  all  ;  I  do 
not  make  the  truth,  for  I  am  not  God ;  I  receive  it  complete 
from  Him."2 

1  See  "  La  Destitution  d'Adolphe  Monod."    Paris,  1864. 
2  Ibid.  p.  12. 


ADOLPHE  MO  NOD.  169 

We  feel  that  he  was  right  when  he  indignantly- 
refused  the  assistance  of  a  suffragan,  who  held 
opinions  different  from  his  own,  and  whom  the 
Consistory  tried  to  press  upon  him,  on  the  excuse 
that  his  feeble  health  rendered  additional  help  neces- 
sary. On  this  occasion  he  writes :  "  I  owe  it  to 
myself  to  say  that  I  have  not  given  any  of  you 
occasion  to  esteem  me  so  lightly,  as  to  think  I  do 
not  believe  in  my  private  life  that  which  in  public  I 
profess  to  believe  ;  that  I  could  give  up  for  any 
earthly  consideration  the  deep  convictions  which  you 
know  I  entertain  ;  and  that  I  would  not  rather  die  at 
my  post  than  call  to  my  aid  a  man  who  would  oppose, 
or  who  would  at  the  least  not  seek  to  cherish  in  the 
souls  committed  to  me  by  God,  the  principles  which 
I  believe,  and  which  I  know  to  be  indispensable  to 
their  happiness  in  this  world  and  in  that  which  is  to 
come." 

It  was  in  vain  that  the  Consistory  tried  various 
plans  to  compass  its  ends.  It  sent  a  deputation  to 
Monod  to  complain  that  he  was  propagating  prin- 
ciples dangerous  to  the  morality  and  peace  of  the 
Church.  In  one  of  its  regular  sessions  it  exhorted 
him  to  modify  his  preaching  and  his  manner  of  life. 
He  has  only  one  reply  to  make  to  all  these  demands, 
and  we  give  it  in  his  own  noble  words  : 

"  I  count  neither  my  glory,  my  honour,  my  health,  my  life  dear 
to  me,  save  as  the  gifts  of  God.  I  am  conscious  how  easy  it 
would  be  for  one  so  young  as  I  am,  and  with  a  naturally  warm 


1 70  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

temper,  to  feel  personal  resentment  at  the  opposition  offered  to 
me.     But  I  have  constantly  sought,  and  I  believe,  by  the  grace 
of  God,  I  have  been  able  to  overcome  this  temptation.  I  long  to 
assure  you  that  the  deep  grief  you  have  caused  me,  is  wholly  free 
from  the  slightest  admixture  of  bitterness  towards  any  one  of 
you,  and  that  I  would  willingly  devote  all  that  remains  to  me  of 
health  already  impaired,  if  by  this  sacrifice  I  could  make  one  of 
you  a  partaker  of  that  Divine  felicity,  the  contagion  of  which 
you  dread !     The  Bible  has  taught  me  that  the  life  of  man  has 
two  parts,  the  one  transitory  and  the  other  eternal  ;  and  that 
the  importance  of  the  former  is  lost  in  that  of  the  latter,  as  the 
finite  is  absorbed  by  the  infinite.     It  has  taught  me  that  the 
only  way  to  a  happy  eternity  is  faith  in  Jesus  Christ.     It  has 
taught  me  further  what  this  faith  in  Jesus  Christ  is,  as  a  con- 
viction, as  a  state  of  soul,  as  a  life.     It  has  taught  me  yet  again 
that  it  is  the  will  of  God  that  certain  men  should  devote  them- 
selves to  the  work  of  leading  souls  into  the  faith.     I  am  one  of 
those  men,  and  I  thank  God  for  it  ;  for,  next  to  the  privilege  of 
being  a  Christian,  I  know  none  more  to  be  desired  than  that 
of  being  a  Christian  pastor.     Henceforth,  all  my  time,  all  my 
power,  all  that  I  have,  all  that  I  am,  belong  to  the  service  of 
God  in  the  gospel  ;  and  it  is  my  constant  prayer  that  I  may  do 
nothing  which  shall  not  tend  to  confirm  in  the  faith  those  who 
do  believe,  and  to  bring  into  it  those  who  do  not." 

The  firm  tone  thus  maintained  by  Monod,  with  all 

the  dignity  becoming  a  faithful  witness  of  the  truth, 

only  had  the  effect  of  irritating  the  opposition,  which 

became  also  numerically  stronger  and  stronger.     We 

can    gauge   the   hopeless   distance   which    separated 

Monod   from    his   ecclesiastical    adversaries,   by   the 

petition  put  in  circulation  by  them  in  the  Church  to 

obtain  his  removal.     It  certainly  was  not  wanting  in 

naivete.     The  petitioners   complained   that  a  young 

theologian  had  come  among  them,  if  not  to  destroy, 

at  least  greatly  to  disturb,  the  divine  calm  which  had 


ADOLPHE  MO  NOD.  171 

been  enjoyed  at  Lyons,  by  exhuming  old  doctrines, 
which  the  good  sense  and  sound  reason  of  man  (more 
advanced  now  than  in  the  age  of  the  Reformation) 
had  wisely  buried  in  oblivion.  It  was  useless,  they 
went  on,  to  go  back  to  such  pernicious  teachings, 
which  were  contrary  alike  to  the  majesty  and  good- 
ness of  God  and  to  that  religion — the  most  difficult 
and  the  noblest  of  all — the  religion  of  good  works. 
The  petitioners  therefore  asked  that  the  competent 
authorities  would  take  efficient  measures  against  a 
religion  which  renders  virtue  useless,  unless  it  is  asso- 
ciated with  a  romantic  and  indefinable  gracious  dis- 
position, which  is  an  offence  to  human  reason,  the 
offspring  of  the  Divine. 

The  signataries  bitterly  reproached  the  evangelical 
pastor  with  the  determination  shown  by  him  to  make 
proselytes,  especially  among  the  Catholics.  Each  one 
for  himself  and  God  for  all,  is  the  universal  motto  of 
sceptical  latitudinarianism. 

The  complaints  made  bore  relation  not  merely  to 
the  substance  of  Adolphe  Monod's  preaching,  but  also 
to  its  captivating  form,  and  to  the  vehemence  of  his 
oratory.  It  is  beyond  question  that  he  was  guilty 
every  Sunday  of  flagrant  offence  on  the  score  of 
eloquence,  and  might  well  thus  perturb  the  souls  of 
the  lovers  of  the  divine  calm.  They  would  only  too 
gladly,  as  in  the  days  of  deacon  Paris,  have  placarded 
above  his  pulpit  a  Consistorial  decree  to  the  effect 
"tfiat  it  was  forbidden  by  God  to  work  miracles  in  this 


1 72  CONTEMPORAR  Y  POR  TRAITS. 

place ;"  and  that  he  must  confine  himself  to  utter- 
ances as  dull  and  cold  as  their  own  spirits.  We  can 
hardly  keep  back  a  smile  when  we  see  Adolphe  Monod 
attempting  to  justify  his  oratorical  offences,  and  half 
promising  to  restrain  their  impetuous  ardour  by  com- 
mitting his  thoughts  to  paper.  He  only  made  this 
concession,  by  which  it  was  simply  impossible  that  he 
or  any  other  born  orator  could  be  bound,  to  show  that 
the  one  point  on  which  he  could  not  yield  a  hair's 
breadth,  was  the  substance  of  his  teaching. 

The  Consistory  took  into  consideration  the  petition 
against  Monod  on  the  22nd  of  December,  1829. 
It  made  the  complaints  urged  by  the  petitioners  the 
pretext  for  asking  the  obnoxious  pastor  to  resign. 
This  he  refused  to  do.  The  Consistory  dared  not  yet 
go  so  far  as  to  dismiss  him,  and  a  sort  of  truce  was 
concluded  without  any  concession  on  M.  Monod's 
part.  The  situation  remained  none  the  less  intoler- 
able, and  the  Consistory  tried  by  all  means  in  its 
power  to  show  its  ill-will,  refusing  in  the  report  of 
proceedings  to  insert  his  own  words,  and  depriving 
him  of  the  right  of  regular  religious  instruction. 

So  far  the  wrong  is  entirely  on  the  side  of  the 
ecclesiastical  authorities.  It  cannot  be  denied,  how- 
ever, that  from  the  year  183 1  Adolphe  Monod,  being 
pressed  beyond  endurance,  hastened  the  final  rupture 
by  proceedings  which  would  have  rendered  his  con- 
tinuance impossible,  even  under  the  best  disposed 
Government. 


ADOLPHE  MO  NOD.  173 

The  interesting  report  which  he  gave  at  the  com- 
mencement of  the  year,  of  the  state  of  the  Church 
at  Lyons,  probably  brought  matters  to  a  crisis.  He 
rose  altogether  above  local  circumstances,  and  de- 
scribed with  great  power  the  close  conflict  between 
Rationalism  and  the  religious  Revival  then  going  on 
throughout  France  and  Switzerland.  It  is  in  this 
masterly  paper  that  we  discover  what  is  the  weak 
point  of  Adolphe  Monod's  position.  He  completely 
confounds  the  attitude  of  a  State  Church  composed 
of  heterogeneous  elements,  with  that  of  a  Church  of 
professing  Christians,  governing  itself  by  principles 
which  it  has  freely  accepted.  This  confusion  is  very 
apparent  in  the  following  passage : 

"  The  Reformed  Church  of  France,"  said  Monod,  in  a  session 
of  the  Consistory,  "  maybe  regarded  in  a  twofold  aspect :  from  a 
religious  point  of  view,  as  a  Christian  Church,  founded  by  God 
and  under  pledge  to  God  ;  and  from  a  civil  point  of  view,  as  a 
State  Church,  under  the  protection  of  the  Government.  From 
the  religious  point  of  view,  it  is  a  union  of  men  who  believe  the 
principles  contained  in  Holy  Scripture.  As  a  State  Church,  it 
has  a  rule  to  which  it  is  bound  by  its  constitution.  That  rule  is 
the  confession  of  La  Rochelle." 

The  preacher  concluded  from  these  considerations 
that  he  was  the  sole  representative  at  Lyons  of  the 
true  Church,  and  that  the  State  was  bound  by  the  con- 
fession of  faith  to  uphold  him.  This  was  clearly  a 
misconception  of  the  character  of  the  modern  State, 
which  is  essentially  a  lay  institution,  and  cannot  enter 
into  doctrinal  discussions.     It  takes  simply  a  histori- 


1 74  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

cal  view  of  the  Churches  associated  with  it.  It  is 
quite  incompetent  to  interfere  in  any  differences  that 
may  arise  on  points  of  dogma.  Besides,  a  Church 
composed  of  a  promiscuous  multitude  cannot  be 
bound  by  the  letter  of  its  creed,  especially  when,  as 
was  the  case  with  the  Reformed  Church  of  France, 
after  the  laws  of  Germinal,  it  has  no  ultimate  and 
competent  authority  on  matters  of  faith.  In  cases 
where,  as  in  the  Church  at  Lyons,  the  majority  have 
become  estranged  from  the  old  religion,  there  is  no 
means  of  compelling  them  to  come  back  to  it.  It  is 
very  grievous  that  the  faith  should  be  thus  abandoned, 
and  a  vague  historic  tradition  substituted  for  it  ;  but 
it  is  impossible  to  reimpose  by  force  a  creed  which  no 
longer  commands  belief.  An  evangelical  preacher 
confronted  with  a  State  Church  like  that  of  Lyons 
has  only  one  alternative  ;  he  must  either  work  on 
patiently  till  he  can  win  back  the  majority  to  his  own 
faith,  or  he  must  take  up  an  entirely  independent 
position  and  say,  "  Let  who  will  follow  me." 

We  do  not  blame  Adolphe  Monod  for  having  failed 
to  make  these  distinctions.  Indeed,  it  would  have  been 
scarcely  possible  for  him  to  make  them  at  a  period 
when  the  ecclesiastical  problem  was  still  undefined. 
Even  half  a  century  later  we  find  the  same  confusion 
still  prevailing,  and  involving  in  inextricable  confusion 
the  affairs  of  the  Reformed  Church  of  France,  after 
the  Synod  of  1872.  It  is  an  error  that  can  only  be 
dissipated  by  stern  and  repeated  lessons  of  experience, 


ADOLPHE  MONOD.  175 

and  it  is  far  from  having  vanished,  even  in  our  own 
day.  Adolphe  Monod  had,  indeed,  already  perceived 
what  was  the  true  solution  of  the  problem,  for  he  did 
not  hesitate,  in  one  of  his  speeches  in  the  Consistory, 
to  express  his  sympathy  with  the  Free  Churches  of 
North  America. 

He  now  felt  himself  impelled  by  conscience  to  a 
course  of  action  which  was,  to  say  the  least  of  it, 
imprudent. 

On  Sunday,  March  20,  183 1,  the  Sunday  preceding 
the  great  Easter  Communion,  he  was  observed  to  be 
more  pale  than  usual  when  he  entered  the  pulpit,  and 
evidently  overcome  with  the  feeling  of  his  tremendous 
responsibility.  The  subject  which  he  took  up  was 
felt  by  all  to  be  a  crucial  one.  The  congregation  was 
astonished  to  hear  him  read  the  words  of  the  insti- 
tution of  the  Lord's  Supper,  although  no  eucharistic 
table  was  spread.  His  object  was,  in  fact,  to  guard 
against  unworthy  communicants  by  putting  to  his 
hearers  this  question,  in  its  novelty  very  startling  to 
them:  "Who  ought  to  communicate?"  Never  had  his 
eloquence  risen  to  such  a  height  of  power  and  holy 
passion.  After  recalling  the  sacred  character  of  the 
eucharistic  table  and  the  barriers  by  which  the  disci- 
pline of  the  early  Church  had  fenced  it,  in  order  to 
avoid  a  profanation  which  was  an  outrage  to  Christ, 
and  brought  swift  condemnation  on  the  head  of  the 
guilty  communicant,  he  drew  a  terrible  picture  of  the 
irregularities  and  scandals  of  the  Church  of  the  day 


1 76  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

and    of  his   own    Church.      Then   he   exclaimed,   in 
accents  never  forgotten  by  those  who  heard  them  : 

"  O  Church  of  my  Saviour,  thou  wast  a  church  beloved  of  God, 
a  plant  of  His  own  right  hand  planting,  and  cherished  by  His 
care.  But  the  barriers  have  been  thrown  down.  Those  who 
called  themselves  by  the  name  of  Christ,  but  who  were  not  of 
Christ,  have  sought  to  be  received  into  Thy  bosom,  and  they  have 
entered  in  only  to  ravage  and  defile.  All  have  become  mixed 
together  in  hopeless  confusion  ;  and  now,  in  the  midst  of  this 
motley  crowd,  without  faith  and  without  law,  but  still  calling 
itself  the  Church  of  Christ,  there  can  only  be  found  here  and 
there  a  few  children  of  God  who  can  scarcely  recognise  each 
other,  so  scattered  are  they  in  the  midst  of  the  unbelievers  and 
enemies  of  the  Lord.  And  in  regard  especially  to  the  Com- 
munion, this  is  what  has  happened.  Every  one  who  says  '  I  am  a 
Christian,'  all  those  who  have  been  baptized,  all  who  attend  re- 
ligious exercises,  claim  to  be  members  of  the  Church,  and  to 
have  a  right  to  the  Communion  ;  as  if  Church  membership 
meant  nothing  more  than  bearing  the  name  of  Christ,  as  if  re- 
generation came  by  baptismal  water  and  not  by  the  Spirit  ;  as 
if  a  human  voice,  a  certain  building,  the  walls,  columns,  arches, 
seats  of  a  place  of  worship,  could  convert  a  sinner  !  O  lamen- 
table confusion  !     O  desecrated  body  and  blood  of  the  Lord  ! 

"And  shall  the  table  of  my  Master  be  always  thus  profaned  ? 
Shall  the  days  of  Communion  always  be  to  a  faithful  minister, 
days  of  lamentation,  mourning  and  woe  ?  For  myself,  I  would 
rather  lay  the  body  of  Christ  upon  a  stone,  and  scatter  His  blood 
to  the  winds,  than  present  them  to  unbelieving  and  profane  lips. 
O  my  God  !  Thou  knowest  that  I  speak  truth.  Wilt  Thou  not 
arise  and  take  away  this  scandal  from  Thy  Church  ?  This  is  no 
slight  darkness,  no  trifling  error,  no  small  irregularity.  It  is  dire 
disorder,  gross  darkness,  utter  infidelity — infidelity  wearing  the' 
name  of  Christ."  I 

Adolphe  Monod  himself  afterwards  admitted  that 
he  had  gone  too  far  in  this  sermon.     To  us  it  appears 

1  Sermons,  vol.  i.  pp.  271-282. 


ADOLPHE  MO  NOD. 


177 


exaggerated  only  in  manner ;  it  is  the  exaggeration 
of  a  great  orator,  carried  away  by  his  impetuous 
eloquence  and  fired  with  a  righteous  indignation. 

It  will  be  readily  understood,  however,  that  a  chal- 
lenge like  this  gave  terrible  offence,  though  the  inten- 
tion of  the  author  was  only  to  make  a  strong  appeal 
to  conscience.  To  the  vote  of  censure  passed  by  the 
Consistory  upon  the  sermon  of  the  20th  of  March, 
Adolphe  Monod  replied  on  the  14th  of  April  by  a 
formal  proposition  to  restore  in  the  Church  of  Lyons 
the  ancient  discipline  of  the  Reformed  Church  of 
France.  This  was  an  implied  acknowledgment  that 
the  ecclesiastical  law  of  the  past  needed  a  fresh  sanc- 
tion on  the  part  of  the  regular  authorities. 

This  inconsistency  did  not  strike  him.  The  next 
day  the  Consistory  replied  to  him  by  an  order  for  his 
dismissal,  which,  however,  could  not  take  effect  till 
it  had  received  ministerial  confirmation.  Adolphe 
Monod  rendered  the  confirmation  inevitable,  in  spite 
of  his  eloquent  written  vindication  of  himself,  by  his 
startling  proceeding  the  next  Sunday  (Whit-Sunday), 
when,  after  preaching,  he  left  the  pulpit  in  order  not  to 
preside  at  the  communion  of  the  day.  It  should  be 
added  that  he  had  done  everything  in  his  power  to 
provide  a  substitute  for  himself  on  this  occasion.  On 
the  19th  of  March,  1832,  the  royal  confirmation  was 
given  to  his  dismissal  from  office.  It  must  be  ad- 
mitted that  no  other  course  was  open  to  the  Minister 
of  Public  Worship. 

13 


1 78  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

We  have  dwelt  at  some  length  on  this  half-forgotten 
episode  of  the  internal  history  of  French  Protestantism, 
because  it  is  characteristic  at  once  of  the  troublous 
times  in  which  Monod  lived,  of  his  own  courageous 
fidelity  to  the  cause  of  what  he  believed  to  be  true, 
and  of  the  remarkable  oratorical  powers  developed 
by  him  in  these  stormy  controversies.  As  soon  as  he 
found  himself  dismissed  from  the  pastorate,  he  gathered 
around  him  his  adherents,  united  himself  to  a  small 
evangelical  Church  which  had  been  formed  in  Lyons, 
and  began  to  conduct  worship  in  a  humble  building, 
very  inadequate  to  the  exercise  of  such  gifts  as  his, 
which  could  command  the  attention  of  multitudes. 

There  are  few  sacrifices  more  costly  to  a  great  orator 
than  this  ;  but  Adolphe  Monod  accepted  the  changed 
conditions  with  touching  humility.  He  did  not  wish 
to  be  regarded  as  the  founder  of  a  new  Church. 
He  objected  to  this  for  two  reasons.  First,  he  was 
fully  convinced  that  the  Reformed  Church  of  France 
was  by  its  constitution  evangelical,  and  that  therefore 
its  sons  ought  not,  by  founding  another  Church  side 
by  side  with  it,  to  proclaim  its  fall,  and  to  hand  over 
to  the  Rationalistic  school  the  heritage  of  their  fathers. 
Second,  it  was  his  fixed  opinion  through  life,  that  on 
matters  of  this  sort  it  is  wise  to  be  as  prudent  and 
moderate,  as  on  the  side  of  evangelical  truth  it  is 
incumbent  to  be  bold  and  unflinching.  His  abiding 
convictions  on  this  point  are  expressed  briefly  in  his 
interesting  appeal  to  the  Christians  of  France  and  of 


ADOLPHE  MO  NOD.  179 

other  lands,  on  behalf  of  the  Evangelical  Church  of 
Lyons.  In  that  appeal  he  says  :  "  I  shall  wait;  I  shall 
follow  the  Lord  step  by  step,  day  by  day,  acting,  as 
necessity  arises,  in  what  appears  to  me  the  path  indi- 
cated by  Providence.  I  shall  mark  out  no  fixed  course 
beforehand.  I  shall  go  straight  forward,  guiding  myself 
outside  the  sanctuary  (since  I  have  no  longer  a  place 
within  it)  by  the  same  principles  which  I  have  ever 
preached." 

It  was  needful,  however,  to  render  habitable  this 
tent,  pitched  opposite  that  house  of  God  from  which 
the  preacher  had  been  shut  out.  The  Evangelical 
Church  of  Lyons  was  led  on  to  establish,  one  after 
another,  the  institutions  essential  to  a  Church  which 
would  subsist  and  develop  itself  upon  the  basis  of  a 
living  faith.  The  new  ministry  of  Adolphe  Monod, 
begun  in  poverty,  and  without  any  assured  means  of 
maintenance,  soon  became  abundantly  fruitful.  The 
Evangelical  Church  of  Lyons,  for  which  he  always 
cherished  a  tender  affection,  received  from  him  the 
two  special  characteristics  by  which  it  has  been  so 
honourably  distinguished,  —  a  large-hearted  Chris- 
tianity which  commended  it  to  all  believers,  and  a 
missionary  zeal  so  active  and  intense  that  it  brought 
in  large  numbers  of  converts  from  surrounding  Catho- 
licism. It  had  a  succession  of  pastors  all  animated 
with  the  spirit  of  its  founder.  During  this,  the  most 
straitened  period  of  his  pastoral  career,  Adolphe 
Monod  found  a  true  helpmeet  in  his  wife,  to  whom  he 


180  CONTEMPORARY  PORTRAITS. 

had  been  married  in  1832  ;  she  entered  with  hearty 
sympathy  into  all  the  great  purposes  of  his  life,  shared 
his  activities,  comforted  him  in  his  sorrows,  and  light- 
ened by  her  hopeful  spirit  all  his  hours  of  depression. 
He  found  himself  surrounded  by  a  rapidly  increasing 
family,  to  whom  he  was  the  tenderest  of  fathers, 
devoting  himself  specially  to  the  moral  education  of 
his  children.  His  home  was  a  beautiful  example  of 
what  a  Christian  household  may  be.  I  hold  in  grate- 
ful memory  some  of  the  Sunday  evenings  I  myself 
spent  there,  when  Monod  gathered  his  young  children 
around  him  and  presented  the  gospel  to  them  in  its 
most  winning  and  attractive  form. 

III. 

In  1836  Adolphe  Monod  was  called  to  fill  the 
Chair  of  Morals  in  the  theological  faculty  of  Mon- 
tauban.  Here  he  found  a  new  sphere  of  usefulness 
not  less  practical  in  its  results,  for  we  can  trace  the 
beneficial  effects  of  his  training  in  successive  gene- 
rations of  pastors.  His  influence  over  the  youthful 
mind  was  extraordinary.  He  was  a  true  master,  in 
the  noblest  sense  of  the  word,  kindling  in  young  and 
eager  souls  the  spark  of  a  higher  life,  so  that  they 
looked  up  to  him  reverently  as  their  spiritual  father. 
He  had  not  the  transcendant  inventive  or  creative 
genius  which  has  distinguished  some  of  the  great 
professors  of  science  and  philosophy  in  our  day.  He 
has  not  left  any  strong  impress  on  theological  teach- 


ADOLPHE  MONOD.  181 

ing ;  in  truth,  peculiarly  adapted  as  was  the  study  of 
morals  to  his  habits  of  mind,  he  at  this  time  only 
treated  it  slightly.  He  had  not  the  leisure  necessary 
to  make  his  mark  in  Hebrew  philology,  and  it  was  not 
till  a  later  period  of  his  life  that  he  fully  recognised 
the  requirements  of  scientific  criticism.  He  had  hardly 
time  to  sketch  out  his  exegetical  course  of  the  New 
Testament.  His  teaching  was,  however,  so  remarkable 
for  its  severe  beauty  of  form,  its  clearness  of  exposition, 
and  the  spirit  pervading  it,  that  it  exerted  a  very 
wholesome  influence  over  his  students.  They  could 
not  but  admire  in  him  the  man  and  the  orator.  This 
was  the  secret  of  his  power  over  young  men.  He  set 
before  them  so  lofty  a  standard  of  Christian  morality 
that  he  commanded  their  respect,  and  gave  them  a 
very  high  idea  of  the  calling  of  a  Christian  and  a 
pastor. 

Though  reserved  and  silent,  his  unvarying  kindness 
rendered  him  always  accessible  to  his  students,  and 
no  master  was  ever  more  beloved  and  respected.  His 
eloquence  became  constantly  more  impressive,  and 
riveted  his  youthful  hearers,  who  were  never  weary  of 
listening  to  him.  He  in  his  turn  devoted  to  them  the 
noblest  efforts  of  his  genius,  not  only  in  consecutive 
homilies  on  Holy  Scripture,  such  as  his  expositions  of 
Paul's  Epistles  to  the  Ephesians,  but  also  in  lectures 
on  sacred  oratory  and  in  the  great  sermons  belonging 
to  this  period  of  his  life,  which  were  all  delivered  first 
at  Montauban.     He  thus  formed  around  him  a  sort  of 


1 82  CONTEMPORAR  Y  POR  TRA ITS. 

evangelical  Port  Royal,  one  of  those  quiet  retreats 
open  to  all  that  is  noble  and  pure,  where  the  love  of 
letters  is  elevated  by  the  grandeur  of  the  object 
pursued,  where  study  is  blended  with  prayer,  and  the 
consecration  of  soul  lends  a  sacredness  to  all  the  work 
of  preparation. 

It  was  not  my  privilege  to  be  one  of  Adolphe 
Monod's  disciples,  but  a  short  stay  at  Montauban,  in 
1844,  gave  me  a  vivid  impression  of  his  extraordinary 
power  as  a  Christian  and  as  an  orator.  It  was  im- 
possible not  to  be  struck  with  his  happy  blending  of 
fervour  with  soberness,  of  kindness  with  severity,  of 
brilliant  gifts  with  unfeigned  humility,  and  by  his 
complete  absorption  in  his  double  work — the  care  of 
the  Church  and  the  watchful  training  of  its  future 
pastors.  Virtue  went  forth  from  him,  and  it  seemed 
as  if  all  who  came  in  contact  with  him  felt  its  in- 
fluence. He  impressed  on  them,  more  or  less,  his  own 
image.  His  memory  is  as  living  to-day  as  it  was 
thirty  years  ago,  in  the  hearts  of  his  disciples. 
Montauban  did  not  exhaust  his  activity.  He  never 
allowed  himself  to  rest,  and  almost  all  his  vacations 
were  devoted  to  preaching  tours,  which  carried  the 
influence  of  his  powerful  words  into  the  humblest 
villages  as  well  as  into  the  great  towns  of  France. 
His  health  was,  however,  always  feeble,  and  his 
naturally  melancholy  temperament,  though  it  could 
not  disturb  the  quiet  depths  of  his  faith,  often  made 
his  work  a  weariness  both  to  the  flesh  and  the  spirit. 


ADO  LP  HE  MO  NOD.  183 

Before  passing  on  to  a  fresh  stage  in  Monod's  life, 
let  us  attempt  to  describe  what  he  was  as  a  theologian 
and  an  orator  in  this  his  first  manner.  His  appear- 
ance in  the  Protestant  pulpit  was  a  marked  event. 
No  such  eloquence  had  been  heard  since  the  days  of 
Saurin.  The  desert  had  been  a  school  of  confessors 
rather  than  of  orators.  The  preachers  who  came  forth 
from  it  on  the  eve  of  the  French  Revolution  had  well- 
nigh  lost  the  staunch  convictions  of  their  fathers. 
There  was  no  inspiration  in  their  colourless  doctrine, 
and  they  borrowed  from  the  First  Empire  the  insipid 
eloquence  of  its  official  literature.  There  were,  no 
doubt,  exceptions  to  this  prevailing  mediocrity.  A 
powerful  thinker  like  Samuel  Vincent  was  able  to 
hold  the  eager  attention  of  his  hearers,  though  he 
lacked  the  gift  of  real  eloquence.  We  have  already 
alluded  to  the  distinguished  abilities  of  the  elder 
Monod.  M.  Athanase  Coquerel  the  elder,  who  had 
become  his  colleague  a  few  years  before  the  com- 
mencement of  Adolphe  Monod's  work  at  Lyons,  dis- 
played during  more  than  half  a  century  a  remarkable 
versatility  of  talent.  He  was  distinguished  for  his  in- 
exhaustible verve',  his  rare  faculty  of  giving  freshness 
to  his  subject,  though  without  any  of  the  highest  gifts 
either  of  thought  or  language.  He  was  a  ready  and 
effective  speaker,  and  a  careful  observer  of  classic 
forms.  The  marked  success  which  attended  him 
through  the  long  career  of  his  ministry  is  the  incon- 
trovertible proof  of  his  powers  as  an  orator.     It  was 


1 84  CONTEMPORARY  PORTRAITS. 

impossible,  however,  that  the  vague  belief  in  the 
supernatural  which  prevailed  from  the  beginning  of 
the  century,  should  give  as  powerful  an  impetus  even 
to  sacred  oratory  as  an  earnest  evangelical  faith.  It 
recognised  neither  the  terrors  of  condemnation  nor  the 
ecstatic  joys  of  pardon.  Its  optimism  made  it  glide 
over  the  surface  of  things,  without  discovering  beneath 
the  smooth  and  brittle  ice,  the  abyss  into  which  poor 
humanity  had  fallen.  Nor  did  it  catch  a  glimpse  of 
that  other  abyss  of  infinite  mercy  which  forms  so 
glorious  a  contrast.  The  cross,  in  ceasing  to  be  the 
mystery  of  redeeming  love,  loses  all  its  supreme 
beauty.  The  emotions  which  appeal  most  strongly 
to  the  soul  of  man  are  thus  withdrawn.  Instead  of 
paradise  lost  and  regained,  there  remains  only  a  moral 
idyll.  We  have  a  Gessner  instead  of  a  Milton.  On 
the  other  hand,  it  is  not  enough  to  be  possessed  of  an 
organ  of  rich  and  deep-toned  harmonies  ;  it  is  needful 
also  to  have  one  who  can  make  the  music.  The 
beauty  of  the  instrument  is  nothing  without  the  skil- 
ful artist.  In  France,  at  least,  until  Adolphe  Monod 
appeared,  the  Protestant  Church  had  produced  wit- 
nesses, sometimes  truly  apostolic  men  like  Felix  Neff, 
but  no  orators  in  the  true  sense  of  the  word.  Often 
it  was  a  matter  of  principle  with  them  to  be  careless 
of  the  forms  of  speech,  either  from  an  idea  that  time 
devoted  to  the  cultivation  of  the  beautiful  would  be 
so  much  taken  from  that  earnest  appeal  to  conscience 
which   seemed   their   supreme  work,   or   from   some 


ADOLPHE  MO  NOD.  185 

scruple  about  allowing  the  least  part  to  the  human 
element  in  the  work  of  conversion — a  sort  of  uncon- 
scious Manicheeism,  which  is  the  natural  result  of  a 
narrow  Puritanism.  The  rigorous  orthodoxy  with 
which  they  satisfied  themselves,  and  which  they 
readily  confounded  with  eternal  truth,  was  ill  adapted 
in  its  rigid  forms  to  a  broad  and  living  exposition. 
It  is  true  that  these  defects  were  redeemed  by  the 
ardour  and  purity  of  missionary  zeal,  but  they  were 
none  the  less  great  obstacles  to  the  exercise  of  pulpit 
oratory.  Adolphe  Monod  possessed  this  gift  in  the 
very  highest  degree.  He  had,  as  we  have  already 
observed,  the  outward  gifts  of  the  orator — the  sonorous 
voice,  the  expressive  gesture,  and,  above  all,  a  face 
which  was  the  true  reflection  of  his  pure  and  ardent 
soul.  His  imagination  was  vivid,  his  mind  clear  and 
strong,  and  his  utterance  naturally  ready,  exact,  and 
powerful.  Above  all,  he  had  that  indescribable  faculty 
in  a  speaker,  of  arresting  and  holding  the  attention 
of  his  hearers,  and  of  imparting  to  them  his  own 
enthusiasm. 

At  Geneva  he  had  found  a  school  of  oratory  on  the 
academic  model,  which  had  largely  cultivated  a  dif- 
fusive style  of  pulpit  rhetoric.  This  was  probably  not 
without  its  uses  for  set  preaching,  but  Monod  soon 
cast  off  that  which  was  artificial  and  declamatory  in 
its  method.  His  natural  gifts  received  their  highest 
impetus  from  his  new  convictions,  which  had  shaken 
his  being  to  its  very  centre.     These  gave  him    that 


1 86  CONTEMPORAR  Y  POR  TRAITS. 

concentration  of  thought  and  feeling  which  is  the  first 
condition  of  passion.  One  great  element  of  his  power 
was  his  intense  earnestness,  which  his  hearers  could 
not  but  feel,  and  which  gave  energy  to  his  every 
word  and  gesture.  Christianity,  as  he  understood 
it,  revealed  to  him  the  tragic  and  sublime  aspect  of 
things  human  and  divine,  and  the  rich  poetry  of  the 
Hebrew  Scriptures  supplied  him  with  the  glowing 
colours  and  images  in  which  he  delighted.  His 
imagination  revelled  in  the  Bible  ;  his  heart  and  his 
head  fed  upon  it.  Lastly,  his  love  for  the  immortal 
soul,  his  eager  longing  to  rescue  it  from  itself  and 
from  supreme  peril,  gave  to  his  discourses  that 
pointedness  and  directness  which  makes  the  words 
sharper  than  a  two-edged  sword. 

His  highest  preparation  for  work  was  prayer.  This 
is  very  evident  from  his  manuscripts,  in  which  we  find 
the  thread  of  thought  often  broken  that  his  soul  may 
cry  out  to  God  in  utterances  like  the  following :  "  O 
Christ,  help  me  by  the  blood  of  Thy  cross." 

One  of  his  sermons  opens  with  this  prayer,  which 

was  plainly  the  secret  outpouring  of  his  soul  to  God  : 

"  O  my  God,  give  me  by  Thy  Spirit  to  lay  down  at  the  foot  of 
the  cross  of  Thy  Son,  that  searching  of  myself,  and  that  dis- 
quietude which  have  overcome  me  for  these  three  days,  to  the 
detriment  of  my  sermon,  of  my  faith,  and  of  Thy  glory,  and  to 
the  scandal  of  my  brethren.  As  for  my  sermon,  help  me  to 
make  it  not  such  as  I  will,  but  as  Thou  wilt.  Thou  hast  the 
secret  of  helping  to  do  much  in  a  little  time.  I  give  myself  up 
to  Thee,  and  begin  my  work  without  fear,  my  eyes  being  up 
unto  Thee.     Enlighten  me  for  the  love  of  Christ." 


ADOLPHE  MONOD.  187 

Theremin  has  written  a  book  at  once  ingenious  and 
true,  under  the  title,  "  L'Eloquence  est  une  vertu." 
In  it  he  shows  how  much  even  natural  eloquence 
owes  to  the  qualities  of  the  soul.  The  example  of 
Adolphe  Monod  is  a  strong  confirmation  of  his 
theory.  He  himself  fully  realised  this  co-opera- 
tion of  conscience,  and  he  attached  great  importance 
to  the  moral  condition  in  the  preparation  of  his 
sermons,  even  from  an  artistic  point  of  view  ;  for  in 
his  case  the  mystical  preparation  was  in  no  way  in- 
compatible with  the  other.  He  was  an  artist  not  by 
temperament  only,  but  as  a  duty.  Is  it  not  a  point  of 
conscience  to  neglect  nothing  which  may  give  to  truth 
a  form  worthy  of  itself,  and  make  it  effective  and 
impressive  ? 

Surely  the  feeling  of  a  sacred  responsibility  will  be 
alone  sufficient  to  prevent  the  use  of  declamation  and 
mere  meretricious  oratory.  A  true  love  of  souls  must 
forbid  the  pandering  to  a  false  taste  by  ornate  and 
florid  speech,  and  thus  the  Christian  orator  will  be 
saved  from  one  of  the  worst  faults  of  an  age  of  literary 
decadence.  Even  manner,  the  most  purely  external 
adjunct  of  oratory,  cannot  escape  the  influence  of  the 
speaker's  prevailing  tone.  On  this  point  Adolphe 
Monod  gave  some  words  of  wise  counsel  in  an  inau- 
gural discourse  of  the  faculty  of  Montauban.  Ad- 
dressing the  future  pastors,  he  said  : 

"  Exercise  yourselves  without  scruple,  gentlemen,  in  the  art  of 
speaking  and  of  style,  but  let  it  be  in  a  Christian  spirit.     Let 


1 88  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

these  be  to  you  always  simply  a  means,  not  an  end.  If  you 
make  oratory  itself  the  end  at  which  you  aim,  you  are  no  longer 
preachers,  you  are  not  even  orators,  you  are  actors.  If  you  cul- 
tivate speech  as  a  means  of  glorifying  God  and  of  doing  good  to 
men,  you  fulfil  a  duty."  l 

After  dwelling  on  what  was  purely  technical  in 
style,  the  professor  took  up  its  moral  aspect.  He 
said  : 

"  The  fundamental  principle  which  forms  the  basis  of  all  rules, 
is  that  oratory  has  its  seat,  not  in  the  lips,  but  in  the  feeling  and 
thought,  and  that  it  depends  less  on  the  voice  than  on  the  soul. 
It  is  the  soul  which  must  speak.  This  is  the  condition  of  all 
true  eloquence.  If  the  success  of  an  actor  like  Talma  depended, 
as  he  himself  said,  on  the  intensity  of  his  meditation  on  the 
dramatic  work  which  he  was  to  render,  how  much  more  must 
this  be  true  of  the  preacher  ?  The  more  deeply  he  is  impressed 
with  the  subject  he  is  to  advance,  the  better  will  he  convey  it, 
and  the  more  natural  and  simple  will  his  manner  be.  The  best 
method  for  acquiring  that  ease  and  freedom  of  speech  which  is 
without  stiffness,  effort,  or  strain,  is  the  heroic  faith  which  leans 
upon  God  Himself,  and  in  the  greatness  of  the  cause  loses  sight 
of  the  creature.    Thus  regarded,  true  elocution  is  itself  a  virtue." 

Monod  was  never  willing,  however,  to  dispense  with 
the  inspiration  that  comes  from  the  presence  of  a 
large  assembly.  Hence,  after  most  careful  prepara- 
tion, he  almost  always  preached  extempore.  He  has 
himself  told  us  that  at  Lyons  it  was  his  practice  to 
preach  from  notes.  The  discourse  in  this,  its  first 
form,  was  afterwards  subjected  to  a  severe  revision. 
Each  of  his  sermons,  especially  during  his  stay  at 
Montauban,  was  a  complete  oratorical  treatise  em- 

1  Discours  de  rentree,  Nov.  26,  1840. 


ADOLPHE  MONOD.  189 

bracing  some  one  aspect  of  Christian  doctrine,  often 
clothed  in  the  most  brilliant  forms,  and  having  all 
the  vivacity  of  unwritten  speech.  Hence  his  sermons 
were  of  extraordinary  length,  such  as  only  his  rare 
gifts  could  have  made  acceptable.  It  was,  to  use  his 
own  expression,  preaching  with  a  full  orchestra.  To 
us  he  seems  to  excel  far  more  in  this  than  in  the 
homiletic  style,  which  he  also  cultivated  very  carefully, 
as  may  be  seen  from  his  sermons  on  the  temptation 
of  Christ,  and  on  the  creation. 

Adolphe  Monod's  preaching  is  not  essentially  either 
exegetical  or  psychological,  although  it  contains  both 
exegesis  and  psychology.  It  is  primarily  synthetic. 
Doctrinal  exposition  hurries  on  to  practical  applica- 
tion. Festinat  ad  res.  He  is  fond  of  using  striking, 
sometimes  paradoxical  expressions,  as  when  he  speaks 
of  virtuous  sinners,  and  is  apt  to  conclude  each  portion 
of  his  discourse  with  an  oratorical  refrain  too  often 
repeated.  When  he  takes  up  an  ethical  subject  he 
always  comes  back  to  the  great  doctrine  of  justifica- 
tion by  faith  and  of  conversion.  It  is  plain  that  his 
only  aim  is  to  show  the  impenitent  sinner  that  he  is 
in  a  position  from  which  he  cannot  of  himself  escape. 
His  logic  is  close  and  forcible ;  but  sometimes  it  is 
carried  to  an  extreme,  and  goes  beyond  the  mark,  as 
in  the  sermon  on  the  fifth  commandment,  "Thou  shalt 
not  kill."  The  idea  of  murder  carried  to  this  length 
loses  all  exactness,  and  takes  in  every  form  of  evil, 
since  there  is  not  one  which  is  not  deadly  to  the  soul. 


1 90  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRA ITS. 

Imagination  plays  a  great  part  in  his  preaching,  but 
he  mixes  on  the  palette  only  sacred  colours.  History 
and  nature  are  alike  regarded  through  the  medium  of 
the  Bible,  of  which  Monod  makes  most  skilful  use, 
though  he  is  sometimes  too  profuse  in  his  allusions  to 
texts  less  generally  known  than  he  supposes.  The 
description  of  the  murder  of  John  the  Baptist  at  the 
request  of  the  dancing  Herodias  ;  of  the  anguish  of 
the  jailer  at  Philippi,  and  of  his  deliverance  after  his 
attempt  at  suicide  ;  the  touching  delineations  of  the 
scenes  of  the  passion,  and  the  account  of  the  first 
apostolic  mission,  all  these  remain  among  the  master- 
pieces of  the  Christian  oratory  of  our  day.  Monod 
does  not  quote  either  from  the  Fathers  of  the  early 
Church  nor  from  the  Reformers,  and  scarcely  ever 
makes  an  allusion  either  to  contemporary  history  or 
literature.  In  this  respect  he  presents  a  strong  con- 
trast to  Lacordaire,  who  was,  under  his  white  Domini- 
can robe,  the  most  modern  of  French  preachers. 
Adolphe  Monod  dwells  by  preference  on  those  im- 
mortal themes  of  all  Christian  eloquence,  which  alone 
respond  to  the  cravings  of  humanity — suffering,  sin, 
death,  the  eternal  hope,  the  Divine  Fatherhood,  the 
mercy  of  Christ.  If,  in  his  treatment  of  them,  he 
lacks  the  originality  and  suggestiveness  of  Vinet,  he 
handles  them  with  majestic  eloquence,  with  brilliant 
imagination,  and  fervid  passion.  He  belongs  rather 
to  the  school  of  Bossuet  and  of  Saurin,  than  of  Fenelon 
and  Massillon. 


ADO  LP  HE  MO  NOD.  191 

His  influence  on  the  pulpit  oratory  of  the  day  was 
great.  It  must  be  acknowledged,  however,  that  his 
disciples  have  not  always  followed  him  without  peril  ; 
for  in  their  imitations  they  have  often  caught  what 
was  external  merely  in  his  great  gifts — his  striking 
oratorical  modes  of  speech.  In  this  way  they  have 
made  grievous  failures,  like  those  Austrian  generals 
who  were  never  worse  beaten  than  when  they  at- 
tempted to  copy  the  tactics  of  Napoleon  without 
understanding  the  secret  of  their  use. 

The  early  preaching  of  Adolphe  Monod  has  an 
authoritative  character  derived  from  his  views  of  theo- 
logy. Both  manner  and  matter  were  to  be,  to  some 
extent,  modified  in  the  next  period  of  his  life.  During 
the  first  years  of  his  stay  at  Montauban  he  remained 
firmly  attached  to  the  orthodoxy  of  the  revival,  at 
least  in  its  main  outlines,  for  he  was  never  one  of 
those  who  went  to  the  greatest  lengths.1 

While  appealing  to  the  ancient  confessions  of  the 
Reformation  era,  in  confutation  of  the  innovations  of 
Rationalism,  he  did  not  hold  himself  bound  to  the 
letter  of  creeds,  which  were,  after  all,  of  only  human 
origin,  and  therefore  inadequate,  and  bearing  too 
distinctly  the  peculiar  impress  of  the  age  which  called 
them  forth.  Monod  was  not  a  strict  Calvinist,  nor 
a  millenarian    of  the   English   school  ;  but   he   had, 

1  The  discourses  of  this  early  period  form  the  first  two  volumes  of 
the  collection  of  sermons  of  Adolphe  Monod,  under  the  heading, 
"Naples — Lyons — Montauban."     Paris,  1850-59. 


192  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

nevertheless,  accepted  the  leading  principles  of  the 
orthodoxy  of  the  age,  which  was  in  many  respects 
more  akin  to  the  scholasticism  of  the  seventeenth 
than  to  the  theology  of  the  sixteenth  century.  He 
held  it  in  high  estimation,  because  it  was  under 
this  rigid  form  that  the  everlasting  gospel  had  first 
reached  his  conscience,  and  he  lent  to  it  the  warmth 
of  his  own  ardent  nature.  This  theology  was  based 
upon  a  wholly  inadequate  view  of  authority,  very  dif- 
ferent from  the  broad  and  living  view  of  the  Reformers. 
Apparently  the  theologians  of  the  revival  were  only 
carrying  on  the  work  of  the  Reformers  in  appealing 
as  they  did  to  the  sovereignty  of  Scripture.  But  the 
seventeenth  century  had  greatly  modified  their  views 
on  this  important  point,  casting  into  the  shade  that 
which  was  to  the  Reformers  the  conclusive  proof  of 
the  inspiration  of  the  Bible,  that  testimonium  spiritus 
sancti,  which  bases  the  authority  of  the  book  on  the 
testimony  of  the  conscience  divinely  enlightened,  and 
clings  to  the  person  of  Christ  Himself  as  the  great 
central  fact  of  revelation.  The  theologians  of  the 
seventeenth  century  and  those  of  the  revival,  follow- 
ing in  their  footsteps,  based  the  authority  of  the  book 
primarily  upon  the  miraculous,  proofs  of  which  they 
sought  now  in  the  fulfilment  of  prophecy,  now  in  the 
multiplication  of  signs  and  wonders.  It  was  upon  this 
letter  of  credit  that  Scripture  and  revelation  were  to 
be  accepted,  even  before  the  soul  had  been  brought 
into  contact  with  the  truth  itself,  and  primarily  with 


ADOLPHE  MONOD.  193 

the  living  truth,  which  is  Jesus  Christ.  The  way  was 
from  the  Scriptures  to  Christ,  not  from  Christ  to  the 
Scriptures. 

In  such  an  apology  there  is  not  simply  the  error 
of  isolating  the  internal  from  the  external  evidence, 
but  also  injustice  is  done  to  the  latter,  which  has  an 
indispensible  historical  value  in  the  establishment  of 
the  credibility  of  the  facts  and  documents  of  reve- 
lation. When  it  is  thus  appealed  to  as  a  final  authority 
to  cut  short  all  inquiry,  it  becomes  rather  an  obstacle 
to  conviction  than  a  means  of  producing  it.  The 
authority  of  Scripture  is  lowered,  and  made  to  appear 
of  the  same  character  as  that  claimed  by  the  Catholic 
Church.  We  are  not  surprised,  therefore,  to  find  in 
Adolphe  Monod's  apologetic  work,  "  Lucile,"  that 
the  enlightened  Catholic  priest  who  is  charged  with 
the  task  of  establishing  the  authority  of  Holy  Scrip- 
ture, does  so  by  arguments  almost  identical  with  those 
which  he  employs  in  the  second  part  of  the  book  to 
vindicate  the  authority  of  his  Church. 

The  same  apologetic  point  of  view  is  presented,  with 
great  force  of  thought  and  expression,  in  the  sermon 
on  "Belief  and  Unbelief."  It  is  always  by  prophecy 
or  miracle — that  is,  by  the  supernatural  attestation  of 
Divine  power — that  the  preacher  silences  the  doubter. 
He  does,  indeed,  repeatedly  break  through  the  limita- 
tions of  his  system,  as  when,  at  the  commencement  of 
this  very  sermon,  he  tells  his  hearers  that  the  best 
way  to  prove  to  them  that  the  Bible  is  the  sword  of 

14 


1 94  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

the  Spirit  is  to  pierce  them  through  with  it ;  but 
there  can  be  no  doubt  that  he  was  at  this  time  a 
theologian  of  the  authoritative  school.  With  such 
views  of  the  authority  of  Scripture,  it  was  difficult 
to  escape  the  doctrine  of  literal  inspiration,  though 
Adolphe  Monod  never  gave  his  formal  adherence  to 
the  theory  of  the  infallibility  of  the  sacred  letter.  In 
his  sermon  on  the  "  Temptation  of  Christ,"  he  attaches 
an  exaggerated  importance  to  the  written  word,  to 
the  mere  letter  of  the  text.  The  book  is  certainly 
made  to  play  the  part  which  belongs  properly  only 
to  the  truth  which  is  in  the  book.  The  casket  is 
made  more  of  than  the  contents. 

"  This  quotation,"  says  the  preacher,  referring  to 
the  text  cited  by  Christ,  "  stops  the  enemy  at  once."  x 
The  authority  of  the  Bible  thus  regarded,  gives  it 
rather  the  character  of  a  formulary  or  Divine  credo 
than  a  history.  The  writing  which  contains  the 
revelation  becomes  confounded  with  the  revelation 
itself,  and  religion  assumes  an  essentially  dogmatic 
character.  History  has,  no  doubt,  still  a  place  in  the 
system,  but  it  is  a  subordinate  place.  Jesus  Christ 
fills  an  important  position,  but  He  is  not  the  very 
centre,  life  and  substance  of  the  whole.  Purity  of 
doctrine  is  scrupulously  guarded,  and  a  hedge  of 
thorns  is  placed  around  it,  as  the  ancient  law  was 
protected  by  the  synagogue  of  old.  Adolphe  Monod 
never  fell  into  these  extremes ;  he  always  presented 

Sermons,  vol.  ii.  p.  177. 


ADOLPHE  MO  NOD.  195 

evangelical  truth  from  a  moral  point  of  view  ;  but  it 
must  be  admitted  that  in  his  early  teaching  he  gave 
too  prominent  a  place  to  doctrine  in  the  development 
of  the  religious  life.  This  is  very  evident  in  his 
sermon  on  "  Sanctification  by  the  Truth,"  in  which 
he  argues  that  truth  is  necessarily  the  parent  of  good, 
and  error,  even  though  unwitting,  must  result  in  evil, 
just  as  in  nature  every  seed,  no  matter  how  sown, 
produces  after  its  kind. 

"Wheat,"  he  says,  "  sown  with  or  without  design, 
will  always  produce  wheat ;  and  tares,  in  like  manner, 
will  never  bring  forth  anything  but  tares.  Even 
so,  a  doctrine  can  only  yield  such  fruits  of  good  or 
evil  as  are  germinally  contained  within  it.  Truth, 
whether  acquired  with  or  without  moral  effort,  will 
always  bear  its  happy  fruit — sanctification  ;  so  that 
in  order  to  express  the  moral  condition  of  a  soul,  we 
have  not  to  ascertain  in  what  way  truth  or  error  has 
gained  a  lodgment  within  it,  but  which  of  the  two 
reigns  within." 

Revelation  is  thus  regarded  too  much  in  the  light 
of  a  mathematical  proposition,  which  appeals  to  the 
intellect  alone.  It  would  be  unjust  to  press  this  con- 
clusion too  far  in  the  case  of  Adolphe  Monod,  for  the 
fervour  of  his  genius  constantly  carried  him  beyond 
the  narrow  bounds  of  his  system.  At  the  close  of  the 
same  sermon  from  which  we  have  just  quoted,  we  find 
the  following  glowing  panegyric  on  the  heroism  of 
the  modern  missionary  : 


1 96  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

" 1  have  seen  the  young  missionary  tear  himself  from  the 
weeping  embrace  of  a  mother,  and  make  the  only  sacrifice  that 
could  be  greater  than  hers  ;  I  have  seen  the  mother,  bidding 
back  her  tears,  sustain  and  encourage  him  when  his  heart 
seemed  ready  to  fail  in  the  prospect  of  the  parting.  And  I 
have  seen  the  same  mother  again,  weeping  over  his  death  ;  but 
not  at  his  grave.  His  grave — if  he  has  one — is  in  the  far  East, 
and  he  has  been  borne  to  it,  perhaps,  by  some  faithful  Hindoos, 
anxious  to  return  to  the  lifeless  body  the  same  faithful  care 
which  he  had  bestowed  upon  their  souls.  His  is  the  forgotten 
grave  of  an  unknown  martyr  in  a  land  of  strangers,  unwatered 
by  a  mother's  tears  ;  and  the  only  sound  which  will  break  its 
stillness  will  be,  perhaps,  the  tumult  of  some  barbarous  and 
bloody  rite,  to  do  away  with  which  he  gave  his  life." 

This  peroration  is  in  itself  the  refutation  of  the 
general  tenor  of  the  sermon,  for  this  martyr-mission- 
ary might  have  gone  forth  from  the  Roman  College, 
instead  of  from  one  of  the  orthodox  societies  of 
Paris  or  Basle.  Adolphe  Monod  would  not  have 
waited  to  know  his  creed  before  rendering  tribute  to 
his  heroic  self-devotion,  thus  showing  that  above 
orthodoxy  there  is  the  faith  which  moves  in  a  higher 
sphere.  This  faith  does  not  necessarily  remove  all 
intellectual  doubts  ;  these  may  still  exist,  but  they 
affect  only  the  form  or  formulary  of  truth,  not  its 
essence,  which  is  a  life,  a  person,  to  be  apprehended 
by  the  heart  and  conscience,  which  is,  in  a  word,  Jesus 
Christ. 

We  need  not  dwell  on  Adolphe  Monod's  early 
view  of  the  doctrine  of  redemption.  This  was 
entirely  in  harmony  with  the  prevailing  teaching  of 
the  Revival,  and  erred,  as  it  appears  to  us,  by  exag- 


ADOLPHE  MONOD.  197 

gerating  the  judicial  aspect  of  the  question,  regarding 
the  cross  as  a  sort  of  Divine  retaliation,  the  actual 
condemnation  of  the  Son  by  the  Father. 

Monod  never  changed  his  views  on  this  point. 
They  became  firmly  associated  with  his  conception 
of  the  justice  of  God,  while  he  failed,  as  we  think, 
to  recognise  how  mercy  tempers  justice.  These  two 
attributes  became,  in  his  treatment  of  them,  conflict- 
ing hypostases,  instead  of  blending  in  the  unity  of  a 
holy  love.  Hence  he  was  led  to  insist  on  the  suffering 
of  the  cross  as  being  really  infinite,  and  exhausting 
all  the  moral  agony  of  hell.  Even  this  view^  how- 
ever, was  inadequate,  since  the  element  of  the  endless 
duration  of  suffering  was  necessarily  omitted.  From 
the  same  premises  Monod  was  led  to  accept  the 
final  and  hopeless  doom  of  those  who  die  impenitent, 
— a  doctrine  affirmed  with  a  certainty  which  is  not 
justified  either  by  the  letter  of  Scripture  or  by  the 
competence  of  the  finite  mind  to  judge  of  eternal 
issues. 

Eternal  punishment  is  a  constantly  recurring  topic 
in  Monod's  early  sermons,  and  he  rises  to  even  un- 
wonted fervour  when  he  touches  on  this  awful  theme, 
though  he  never  attempts,  by  harrowing  descriptions 
of  the  anguish  of  the  doomed,  to  excite  mere  nervous 
terror.  We  are  bound  to  respect  his  faithfulness  to 
convictions  which  must  have  been  intensely  pain- 
ful to  his  generous  heart.  "Those  who  heard  him 
tremble  still,"    said    Michelet.     He   himself  was   the 


1 98  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

first  to  tremble — to  tremble  for  the  immortal  souls 
whom  he  yearned  to  save  from  the  abyss.  It  was  to 
arouse  them  from  their  deathful  sleep  that  he  sounded 
again  and  again  that  awful  alarm  bell,  at  the  tones  of 
which  the  most  indifferent  cheeks  grow  pale.  In 
truth,  Monod  made  use  of  all  the  narrow  dogmatisms 
of  the  Revival,  to  startle  out  of  its  crass  indifference 
and  worldliness  a  generation  which  had  been  lulled 
into  a  false  security  by  the  facile,  sentimental  Protes- 
tantism of  the  nineteenth  century,  crying  "  Peace  ! 
Peace  !  "  when  there  was  no  peace. 

To  the  doctrine  of  justifying  faith  Monod  gave 
powerful  affirmation,  not  pausing  like  Vinet  to  dis- 
cover the  synthesis  which  brings  St.  James  into 
harmony  with  St.  Paul,  and  shows  how  sanctifkation 
springs  from  justification,  like  the  oak  from  the 
acorn.  He  always  maintained  a  clear  distinction 
between  grace  and  free  will,  not  trying  to  reconcile 
them  lest  he  should  weaken  the  force  of  either. 

No  preacher  ever  made  more  direct  and  telling 
appeals  to  man's  power  of  choice.  In  a  word, 
Adolphe  Monod,  in  this  his  first  period,  is  the  faith- 
ful exponent  of  the  current  orthodoxy  of  the  re- 
ligious Revival,  while  avoiding  the  extravagancies 
which  here  and  there  defaced  it. 

In  the  fervid  eloquence  of  his  preaching,  however, 
it  is  easy  to  trace,  even  at  this  period,  the  elements 
of  a  broader  and  fuller  conception  of  Christian  truth. 
It  could  not  be  otherwise  in  a  heart  and  mind  cast 


ADOLPHE  MONOD.  199 

in  so  generous  a  mould.  It  would  be  easy  to  multiply 
passages  from  Monod's  early  sermons,  which  point  to 
a  greater  freedom  in  dealing  with  Scripture,  and  a 
less  exaggerated  estimate  of  the  importance  of  mere 
doctrinal  beliefs,  than  is  consistent  with  his  systematic 
creed.  But  we  must  always  bear  in  mind  that  a 
religious  system  is  to  be  judged,  not  by  its  recog- 
nition of  this  or  that  isolated  fact,  but  by  its  general 
tone  and  spirit,  by  that  which  Spinoza  calls  the  vin- 
culum substances.  Now  it  is  indisputable  that  the  pre- 
vailing tone  and  spirit  of  Adolphe  Monod's  teaching 
in  the  earlier  part  of  his  career  was  such  as  we  have 
described.  It  is  equally  certain  that  in  later  years  his 
theology  underwent  a  very  real  change,  though  his 
faith  remained  the  same.  In  tracing  the  causes,  both 
external  and  internal,  which  contributed  to  this  re- 
sult, we  shall  have  to  go  back  to  the  history  of  his 
life. 

IV. 

We  left  Adolphe  Monod  commencing  at  Mon- 
tauban  that  professorial  career  in  which  he  was  so 
useful.  The  sermons  which  he  published  in  the  early 
part  of  his  course  exhibit  no  change  of  opinion.  His 
apologetic  work,  "  Lucile,"  is,  on  the  contrary,  the 
fullest  expression  of  his  early  views. 

This  book  was  written  in  1840,  in  the  form  of  letters. 
It  was  suggested  by  facts  in  real  life,  and  we  ourselves 
were  personally  acquainted  with  the  characters  repre- 


200  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

sented.  The  substratum  of  fact  was,  however,  soon 
transformed  and  enriched  by  the  hand  of  the  artist. 
No  publication  of  Adolphe  Monod's  was  more  success- 
ful than  this.  The  ease  and  animation  of  the  letters 
and  dialogues,  the  beauty  of  the  language,  the  close 
and  lucid  reasoning,  the  high  tone  and  simple,  earnest 
piety  which  characterise  it  throughout,  all  combine  to 
make  "  Lucile  "  a  cJtef  d'ceuvre.  It  presents  the  grand 
arguments  which  never  grow  old,  as  well  as  those 
which  were  adapted  only  to  a  form  of  thought  now 
passed  away. 

As  an  apologist,  Adolphe  Monod  belongs  to  the 
English  school.  He  not  only  ignores  the  great  and 
immortal  apology  of  the  Alexandrine  fathers,  but 
he  pays  too  little  attention  to  Pascal,  who  in  the 
seventeenth  century  restored  the  psychological,  without 
derogating  from  the  value  of  the  historical  evidence 
of  Christianity. 

In  "  Lucile "  the  whole  weight  of  the  demonstra- 
tion is  made  to  rest  upon  the  authority  of  Scripture, 
as  vindicated  by  outward  signs,  rather  than  by  the 
witness  of  the  Spirit  of  God.  Much  more  stress  is 
laid  upon  miracle  and  prophecies  than  upon  the 
person  of  Jesus  Christ.     This  is  its  weak  point. 

At  the  very  time  when  "  Lucile  "  appeared,  Vinet 
was  taking  up  and  carrying  on  the  work  of  the  great 
thinker  of  Port  Royal.  The  influence  of  Vinet's 
writings  did  more  than  anything  else  to  enlarge 
Adolphe  Monod's  theological  views.      Monod  was  a 


ADOLPHE  MONOD.  201 

diligent  reader  of  the  religious  journal,  "  Le  Semeur," 
though  but  rarely  a  contributor  to  it,  and  he  could 
not  but  be  struck  with  the  wealth  and  depth  of 
thought  which  characterised  all  the  articles,  literary 
and  theological,  of  the  Lausanne  professor.  Just  as 
we  can  trace  through  every  line  of  the  Epistle  of 
Peter  the  influence  of  Paul,  his  junior  in  the  aposto- 
late,  so  Adolphe  Monod  became,  perhaps  uncon- 
sciously to  himself,  deeply  imbued  in  mature  life 
with  the  spirit  of  Vinet. 

He  was  no  copyist,  and  in  the  writings  of  the  two 
men  we  find  scarcely  two  expressions  in  common  ; 
but  the  assimilation  of  thought  was  deep  and  real. 

Adolphe  Monod's  duties  as  a  theological  pro- 
fessor became  also  a  means  of  enlarging  his  views. 
It  was  not  possible  for  him,  with  his  keenness  of 
insight  and  uprightness  of  conscience,  to  carry  on  a 
course  of  sacred  criticism,  without  becoming  conscious 
of  many  difficulties  in  the  way  of  that  theory  of  literal 
inspiration,  which  he  had  accepted  without  thorough 
investigation.  If  the  whole  edifice  of  Christian  con- 
viction is  to  be  based  upon  the  authority  of  the 
Scriptures  as  demonstrated  by  miracles,  the  verbal 
infallibility  of  the  canon  is  an  indispensable  condition. 
Failing  this,  recourse  must  be  had  to  some  other 
criterion — to  historical  evidence,  on  the  one  hand, 
which  guarantees  only  that  which  is  indubitably 
authentic ;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  to  the  witness  of 
the  Spirit,  which  testifies  first  to  Christ  Himself — the 


202  CONTEMPORAR  Y  POR  TRAITS. 

centre  and  soul  of  revelation — and  through  Him  to 
the  Book,  of  which  He  is  the  Alpha  and  Omega. 

Literal  inspiration,  and  an  indisputable  canon — 
these  are  the  two  pillars  of  the  strict  orthodoxy  of 
the  Revival,  which  on  these  two  points  differed  widely 
from  the  Reformation  of  the  sixteenth  century.  The 
question  at  issue  between  this  orthodoxy  and  the 
liberal  evangelical  school  is,  whether  the  higher 
authority  belongs  to  Jesus  Christ  or  to  the  Book, 
provided  always  that  the  authenticity  of  the  record  be 
established  by  competent  historical  evidence.  With 
however  much  of  prudent  reticence  Adolphe  Monod 
entered  on  his  course  of  sacred  criticism,  it  could  not 
fail  to  modify — at  first,  perhaps,  unconsciously  to  him- 
self— his  views  of  revelation.  On  his  young  hearers, 
less  fettered  than  himself  by  a  traditional  faith,  the 
effect  was  very  manifest.  There  can  be  little  doubt 
that  they  were  somewhat  unsettled  by  the  critical 
problems  which  now  presented  themselves  for  the 
first  time  to  their  minds,  and  it  was  in  all  probability 
the  desire  to  find  some  basis  for  their  convictions 
which  could  never  be  shaken,  that  led  Adolphe 
Monod  to  recast  his  apology,  and  with  it,  to  some 
extent,  his  theology.  It  would  be  erroneous  to  suppose 
that  there  was  anything  like  a  violent  rupture  between 
the  first  and  the  second  period  of  his  intellectual 
life.  The  transition  was  a  very  gradual  one,  wrought 
without  observation  in  the  quiet  domain  of  his  own 
thoughts.     The  change  must  have  been  more  marked 


ADO  LP  HE  MO  NOD.  203 

if  he  had  ever  professed  the  Calvinism  of  the  Scotch 
Churches,  or  the  doctrine  of  plenary  inspiration 
taught  by  the  venerable  Gaussen.  But  he  had  never 
gone  to  extremes ;  and  it  is  only  by  a  careful  perusal 
of  the  sermons  preached  after  his  removal  to  Paris, 
that  we  discover  how  completely  he  had  changed  his 
standpoint. 

He  was  called  to  be  suffragan  in  the  great  Church 
at  Paris  in  the  year  1847.  We  shall  presently  speak 
of  the  important  ministry  he  there  accomplished. 
For  the  present  we  shall  continue  to  trace  the 
development  of  his  theological  views.  From  his  very 
first  sermon  it  was  clear  that  these  had  undergone  a 
change.  He  was  most  careful,  however,  not  to  put 
anything  in  a  way  which  might  be  likely  to  cause  a 
division  among  evangelical  Protestants ;  hence  he 
avoided  giving  anything  like  a  polemical  turn  to 
the  expression  of  his  new  convictions.  The  great 
purport  of  his  preaching  was,  moreover,  still  the  same. 
He  proclaimed  restoration  for  lost  man  by  the 
redemption  of  Christ,  justification  by  faith,  a  salva- 
tion full  and  free.  His  convictions  of  the  holiness  of 
God's  law,  of  His  claims,  and  of  the  desperate  condi- 
tion to  which  man  was  reduced  by  sin,  were  as  strong 
as  ever.  This  was  the  vital  truth  of  the  orthodoxy  of 
the  Revival,  and  this  gave  force  to  its  reaction  against 
the  frivolous  optimism  which  had  crept  into  the 
Protestant  Church.  Adolphe  Monod,  so  far  from 
derogating   at   all    from  the   holy   austerity   of    the 


204  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

Revival,  gave  most  emphatic  vindication  to  it  in  his 
later  sermons.  If  he  no  longer  dwelt  so  largely  upon 
eternal  punishment,  if  towards  the  close  of  his  life 
he  recognised  the  scriptural  truth,  that  the  secret 
things  (of  eternity)  belong  to  the  Lord  our  God,  he 
did  not  therefore  lower  the  standard  of  holy  living. 
Thus  in  one  of  his  latest  sermons  we  find  him 
exclaiming  :  "  Far  be  it  from  us  to  preach  a  salvation 
in  which  the  glory  of  God  should  be  sacrificed.  Let 
His  holy  law  first  be  vindicated,  and  then,  if  it  may 
be  so,  let  my  salvation  be  secured."1 

In  the  following  passage  we  trace  the  bond  of 
union  between  the  two  phases  of  his  faith :  "  O 
Cross!  O  blood  of  the  Holy  One  shed  for  my  sins ! 
O  bitter  sacrifice  of  a  spotless  victim !  O  scene, 
which  justifies  alike  the  sinner  in  the  eye  of  a  holy 
law,  and  the  God  who  can  be  just,  and  yet  the 
Justifier !  O  thrice  blessed  cross,  my  whole  soul  flees 
to  thee.  It  yearned  for  thee  before  it  knew  thee : 
with  what  ardour  shall  it  not  embrace  thee,  now  thou 
art  known!" 

These  closing  words  introduce  us  to  the  new  world 

1 "  Doctrine  Chre'tienne,"  Ouatre  Discours.  Paris,  1869. 
11  Discours  sur  l'GEuvre  du  Fils,"  p.  167.  The  works  of  Adolphe 
Monod  dating  from  this  period  are,  in  addition  to  these  doctrinal 
discourses  :  Vol.  III.  of  his  Sermons,  Paris  1859,  containing  his 
sermon,"  La  Parole  vivante;""  St.  Paul;"  Cinq  Discours,  1862-63. 
Some  single  sermons  of  great  value  ;  among  others,  "Nathanael," 
"  Les  grandes  ames,"  "  Explication  de  l'Epitre  aux  Ephe'siens." 
Paris,  1867. 


ADOLPHE  MONOD.  205 

in  which  for  some  years  Adolphe  Monod's  thoughts 
had  begun  to  move.  He  says  that  he  was  yearning 
for  the  cross  before  he  knew  it.  What  is  this  but  an 
acknowledgment  that  the  gospel,  of  which  the  cross 
is  the  foundation  and  the  top-stone,  appeals  to  the 
deepest  instincts  of  the  soul  and  conscience,  and 
derives  its  highest  title  to  our  acceptance,  not  from 
miracle  or  prophecy,  but  from  its  response  to  our 
universal  human  needs  ? 

This  is  the  point  on  which  he  dwells  with  so  much 
emphasis  in  the  second  period  of  his  preaching.  He 
delights  to  show  the  harmony  existing  between  con- 
science and  the  gospel,  and  appeals  constantly  to 
Tertullian's  testimonium  animce  nahiraliter  Chris- 
tiana, and  to  the  apologies  of  Clement  of  Alexan- 
dria, of  Pascal,  and  of  Vinet,  in  support  of  his  views. 

We  should  like  to  quote,  just  as  they  stand,  his 
two  admirable  sermons  upon  Nathanael  and  "  Les 
grandes  ames."  The  thoughts  themselves  are  only 
new  in  his  perception  of  them,  but  they  come  out 
with  fresh  brilliancy  under  his  treatment,  and  show 
how  his  own  mind  had  been  expanding.  In  his 
sermon  on  Nathanael  he  says  : 

"  All  upright  hearts  belong  to  Jesus  ;  He  claims  them  from  the 
first,  and  disposes  of  them  as  of  that  which  is  His  own,  and 
which  sooner  or  later  must  come  to  Him.  The  faithfulness  of 
Nathanael  to  the  light  he  had  received,  placed  him  in  a  position 
to  receive  the  greater  light,  which  as  yet  he  lacked.  It  only 
needed  that  he  should  be  brought  into  the  presence  of  Christ 
to  recognise  in  Him  that  which  he  sought.    The  true  moral 


206  CONTEMPORA  R  Y  FOR  TRA  ITS. 

measure  of  every  man  is  not  the  measure  of  light  he  possesses, 
but  his  faithfulness  to  that  which  he  has.  Between  an  upright 
heart  and  Christ  there  is,  if  I  may  so  speak,  such  an  affinity, 
such  an  attraction,  that  if  they  were  as  far  apart  as  the  ends  of 
the  earth,  they  would  find  some  means  of  drawing  near  to  each 
other,  or  if  they  could  not  find  a  way,  they  would  make  one. 
The  parched  earth  has  not  more  need  of  the  rain  from  heaven, 
than  the  weary  and  heavy-laden  sinner  has  need  of  Christ. 
This  utter  need  makes  him  recognise,  even  afar  off,  the  power 
that  is  coming  to  his  aid.  This  was  what  he  had  been  seeking, 
longing  for,  yearning  after ;  and  had  he  not  found  it,  he  must 
have  invented  it."  l 

The  sermon  on  "Les  grandes  ames,"  is  even  more 
daring  in  its  use  of  the  purely  moral  apology.  In  it 
Monod  says : 

"  The  more  truly  great  a  soul  is,  the  more  will  it  be  prepared, 
all  other  things  being  equal,  to  receive  Jesus  Christ.  There  is 
no  soul  which  has  not  in  it  the  elements  of  greatness,  since  all 
were  made  by  God,  and  made  in  His  own  image.  It  is  only 
the  petty  in  us  that  is  against  Jesus  Christ ;  all  that  is  great  in 
us  is  on  His  side." 2 

Then,  taking  up  one  by  one  each  separate  faculty  of 
man — the  reason,  the  heart,  the  conscience,  the  ima- 
gination—  he  shows  that  in  all  these  regions  "the 
current  that  bears  us  away  from  Jesus  Christ  is 
superficial,  troubled,  polluted ;  while  that  which  draws 
us  to  Him  is  deep,  quiet  and  pure." 

Christianity  thus  comes  to  us  not  so  much  in  the 
form  of  a  doctrine  as  of  a  person  ;  it  is  embodied  and 
personified    in  Jesus  Christ.      Revelation,   therefore, 

1  Sermon  on  Nathanael. 
2  "  Les  grandes  ames,"  pp.  42,  43. 


ADOLPHE  MONOD.  207 

assumes  a  different  aspect.  Adolphe  Monod,  under 
the  influence  of  his  earlier  convictions,  was  wont  to 
present  revelation  as  essentially  a  doctrine  contained 
in  a  book,  and  his  apology  was  directed  to  establish- 
ing against  all  opposition  the  authority  of  the  Book. 
But  from  this  time  we  find  him  giving  the  first  place, 
not  to  the  doctrine  or  the  book  which  contains  it, 
but  to  the  person  of  Christ ;  and  both  doctrine  and 
book,  so  far  from  being  depreciated,  become  illu- 
minated with  a  new  and  clearer  light.  The  authority 
of  the  Book,  being  derived  from  the  authority  of 
Him  who,  as  Luther  says,  is  greater  than  the  Book, 
is  established  on  a  stronger  basis.  It  is  in  his  ser- 
mon on  the  living  Word  that  he  gives  fullest  expres- 
sion to  these  views.  He  begins  by  distinguishing 
between  the  written  and  the  living  Word,  while 
recognising  that  historically  we  only  arrive  at  the 
latter  through  the  former.  He  unhesitatingly  places 
the  living  above  the  written  and  spoken  Word. 

"  The  one  explains  the  thought  of  God,  the  other  reproduces 
God  Himself.  '  He  who  hath  seen  Christ  hath  seen  God.'  The 
life  means  the  entire  being,  and  the  preacher  of  the  living  per- 
son of  Jesus  Christ,  alone  gives  us  the  whole  truth.  No  written 
language,  not  even  the  Word  of  God  itself,  can  express  all. 
There  must  always  remain  between  the  lines,  gaps  which  mere 
words  cannot  supply,  which  the  life  alone  can  fill.  The  life 
means  unity  —  the  harmonious  blending  of  even  opposite 
elements.  The  preaching  of  the  living  person  of  Christ  is  the 
only  means  of  satisfying  all  needs,  even  the  most  diverse,  by 
virtue  of  the  elasticity  peculiar  to  life."  x 

1  "  La  Parole  vivante,"  pp.  9,  27. 


208  CONTEMPORA  R  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

It  follows  from  this  distinction  between  the  living 
and  the  written  Word,  that  the  latter  derives  its 
dignity,  its  grandeur,  and  consequently  the  best  proof 
of  its  Divine  character,  from  Jesus  Christ.  Incessit 
patuit  Deus.  There  is  no  need,  then,  to  follow  the 
devious  course  of  the  old  apology,  which  led  from  the 
Book  to  Christ,  laboriously  demonstrating  the  autho- 
rity of  the  Bible  from  miracles  and  prophecies,  which 
the  sceptical  are  always  ready  to  call  in  question. 
We  must  reverse  the  process,  and  lead  from  Christ  to 
the  Book. 

Adolphe  Monod  says,  in  a  passage  which  shows 
how  far  his  views  had  advanced  since  he  wrote 
"  Lucile : " 

"  With  reference  to  the  Divine  authority  of  Scripture,  we  may 
no  doubt  maintain  it  on  the  ground  of  those  prophecies, 
miracles  and  facts  which  bring  irresistible  conviction  to  the 
upright  mind  ;  but  I  would  rather  turn  from  all  this,  and  appeal 
directly  to  Jesus  Christ  Himself.  Did  He  not  strengthen 
Himself  by  the  written  Word?  Did  He  not  recognise  the 
inspiration  of  the  prophets  and  guarantee  that  of  the  apostles  ? 
And  was  He  not  without  error  and  without  sin — those  two 
immovable  poles  of  the  human  conscience  ?  Believe  in  Christ 
as  His  own  witness.  Bring  your  hearer  into  the  presence  of 
Christ,  the  Holy  One.  You  have  not  to  lead  him  from  the 
Bible  to  Jesus  ;  rather  try  to  lead  him  from  Jesus  to  the  Bible."1 

From  these  premises  Monod  naturally  derived  an 
enlarged  conception  of  inspiration,  thought  it  appears 
to  us  that  he  did  not  go  far  enough  in  this  direction. 

1  "  La  Parole  vivante,"  pp.  30,  44. 


ADOLPHE  MONOD.  209 

We  cannot  agree  with  him  when  he  says,  as  in  the 
passage  just  given,  that  Christ,  by  His  quotations  from 
the  Old  Testament,  solved  the  gravest  problems  of 
sacred  criticism.  Still  more  must  we  differ  from  him 
when  he  maintains  that  there  was  the  very  same 
transfusion  of  the  human  with  the  Divine  in  Holy 
Scripture  as  in  the  person  of  Christ.  We  cannot 
admit  that  the  human  element  in  the  written  Word 
had  the  same  absolute  perfection  as  in  the  living 
Word.  Monod  had  himself  completely  abandoned 
the  idea  of  the  plenary  inspiration  of  Scripture.  He 
thought  it  a  proof  of  littleness  to  attach  importance 
to  slight  differences  between  the  narratives  of  the 
sacred  writers,  or  to  the  real  or  supposed  historic 
impossibility  of  a  figure  or  a  date.  He  evidently 
admits  that  there  may  be  such  historical  inaccuracies 
or  slight  deviations  in  the  narrative,  even  though 
he  adds  that  the  inconsistency  is,  perhaps,  only  super- 
ficial. He  thus  abandons  the  theory  of  exact  literal 
inspiration,  which  admits  of  no  concession.  "The 
devout  soul  rises  above  all  these  petty  details,  and 
will  not  make  its  faith  dependent  on  the  correctness 
of  a  copyist,  or  on  the  solution  of  some  question  of 
criticism  ;  it  comes  straight  into  the  presence  of 
Christ  Himself."  '  In  truth,  the  Book  itself  is  not 
simply  a  book,  a  mere  collection  of  inspired  oracles  ; 
it  is  an  organ  instinct  with  the  religious  and  moral 
life  of  the  writers.  This  view  is  expressed  with  the 
greatest   clearness    and    force    in    the    sermons    on 


210  CONTEMPORARY  PORTRAITS. 

St.  Paul.  "  Inspired  words,"  says  Monod,  "  break 
forth  from  the  troubled  soul  of  the  apostle,  like  light- 
ning from  the  heavily-charged  thunder-cloud.  Great 
agonisings  of  souls  precede  his  sublimest  revelations." 
He  had  himself  been  pierced  through  and  through 
by  the  sword  of  the  law ;  he  had  himself  trembled 
beneath  the  thunder  of  Sinai,  before  he  launched  his 
thunderbolts  against  Pharisaism.  Hence  the  import- 
ance attaching  to  the  spiritual  history  of  the  great 
apostle,  who  was  to  be  fitted  by  his  own  deep  ex- 
perience to  become  the  living,  personal  organ  of 
revelation.  Adolphe  Monod  expresses  his  idea  in 
the  following  striking  words  :  "  The  organs  of  revela- 
tion are  regarded  by  the  vulgar  as  the  spoilt  children 
of  inspiration,  while  in  truth  they  are  its  martyrs. 
Blessed  js  the  fire  which  comes  from  heaven  ;  but  woe 
to  the  cloud  charged  with  its  transmission  to  earth, 
whether  it  bears  pent  within  its  bosom  the  sacred 
burden,  or  rends  itself  that  the  celestial  fire  may 
break  forth."  r 

Monod  was  so  strongly  impressed  with  the  import- 
ance of  his  new  views,  that  he  did  not  hesitate  to 
insist  on  them  as  opposed  to  the  views  of  the  narrower 
Evangelicals.  Deep  as  was  his  respect  for  the  re- 
ligious Revival,  he  was  bold  to  affirm  that  its  piety 
was  of  too  dogmatic  a  character  in  its  teaching,  and 
had  dealt  the  much  with  the  externals  of  religion  ; 

1  Sermon  on  St.  Paul,  p.  53. 


ADOLPHE  MO  NOD.  211 

that  it  had  been  too  much  a  matter  of  creeds,  while 
the  secret  springs  of  the  life  had  too  often  remained 
untouched. 

Adolphe  Monod  was  quite  conscious  of  the  change 
that  had  come  over  his  views  since  his  first  religious 
awakening.  He  looked  upon  it  as  a  painful  but 
necessary  process  through  which  not  the  individual 
Christian  alone,  but  the  Church  of  the  future  must  be 
called  to  pass. 

The  task  devolving  upon  that  Church  would  be 
to  give  greater  breadth  to  Christian  doctrine,  while 
still  holding  fast  the  divine  folly  of  the  cross  ;  and 
to  develop  gradually  true  catholicity  by  means  of 
the  Evangelical  Alliance,  of  which  he  was  one  of 
the  founders,  and  in  which  he  rejoiced  as  one  of  the 
grandest  facts  of  the  Christianity  of  the  day,  and 
by  giving  the  preponderance  to  the  great  central 
truth  over  all  that  was  particular  and  subordinate, 
uniting  all  hearts  in  a  common  worship  of  the  Christ 
of  God.  It  was  in  order  to  build  up  this  Church  of 
the  future,  and  to  free  it  from  the  trammels  by  which 
it  is  at  present  fettered,  that  Adolphe  Monod  laboured 
to  rally  round  the  Living  Truth  a  valiant  and  believing 
people  of  God,  aspiring  after  this  new  land  of  promise, 
consumed  with  the  desire  to  enter  upon  it,  and  pre- 
paring themselves  for  that  holy  warfare  by  which 
alone  it  could  be  won.  Before  this  people  of  God  he 
sets  as  a  model  the  great  conqueror  of  the  apostolic 
age,    St.    Paul  —  that    apostle    of    intrepid   courage 


2 1 2  CONTEMPORAR  Y  POR TRAITS. 

towards  men,  but  of  deep  self-abasement  before  God. 
In  St.  Paul's  tears  of  pity,  of  tenderness,  and  of  humi- 
liation, he  finds  the  secret  of  his  success.  How  far 
removed  is  all  this  from  the  rapid  awakenings,  easy 
conversions,  sudden  sanctifications,  incessant  congratu- 
lations by  which  many  characterise  the  apostolic  era. 
The  alleluias  rise  out  of  the  groanings  which  cannot 
be  uttered  :  the  soil  out  of  which  a  new  and  glorious 
harvest  is  to  grow,  must  be  watered  by  nothing  less 
than  the  tears  of  a  St.  Paul. 

It  is  peculiarly  interesting  to  watch  the  growth  and 
progress  of  a  soul  so  upright,  a  conscience  so  tender, 
as  that  of  Adolphe  Monod  from  the  beginning  of  that 
religious  revival  of  which  he  was  one  of  the  finest 
fruits.  It  seemed  as  if  he,  the  great  preacher,  the 
eminent  Christian,  had  only  to  lead  the  way  in 
the  course  on  which  he  had  entered,  in  order  to 
accomplish,  under  the  most  favourable  conditions,  a 
theological  renovation  which  would  satisfy  the  legiti- 
mate aspirations  and  meet  the  requirements  of  the 
most  enlightened  minds.  Unhappily  the  ecclesias- 
tical crisis  intervened  to  hinder  this  happy  con- 
summation. It  remains  for  us  to  see  what  part 
Adolphe  Monod  took  in  it  during  the  remaining 
years  of  his  life. 

V. 

Adolphe  Monod  had  been  hardly  a  year  in 
Paris  when  the  ecclesiastical   controversy,  which  for 


ADOLPHE  MO  NOD.  213 

a  time  had  slumbered,  broke  forth  with  renewed 
vehemence.  It  is  not  our  purpose  here  to  enter  at 
any  length  into  the  merits  of  the  question.  Let  it 
suffice  to  say  that  the  internal  condition  of  French 
Protestantism  had  greatly  changed  since  Adolphe 
Monod  was  dismissed  from  the  Church  at  Lyons. 
Its  organisation  had  not  improved.  The  glorious 
institutions  of  its  early  days  had  no  longer  any 
existence  except  in  its  historical  archives.  The 
Councils  of  the  Church  were  always  self-elected,  the 
members  being  taken  from  the  list  of  the  wealthy 
Protestants.  There  could  scarcely  be,  I  imagine,  in 
any  Church  a  mode  of  proceeding  more  contrary  to 
the  spirit  of  Christianity.  It  was  the  survival  in 
the  religious  world  of  the  famous  list  of  notables  of 
the  First  Empire,  and  altogether  alien  to  the  spirit  of 
the  Divine  Founder  of  the  religion  of  the  poor. 

Meanwhile  true  religion  had  been  making  rapid 
progress.  The  number  of  the  Evangelicals  was  every 
day  increasing.  They  had  set  on  foot  noble  mission 
works  at  home  and  abroad,  and  their  moral  influence 
was  spreading  far  and  wide.  The  question  of  the 
separation  of  the  Church  from  the  State  was  forced 
upon  men's  minds  by  the  foundation  of  the  Free 
Church  of  Scotland,  by  a  similar  creation  in  French 
Switzerland,  and  by  the  powerful  polemics  of  Vinet, 
sustained  by  the  principal  organ  of  Protestant  thought, 
"  Le  Semeur."  All  these  causes  acting  together  had 
shaken    the   old    prejudices    in    favour    of    national 


214  CONTEMPORARY  PORTRAITS. 

Churches.  An  important  section  of  the  Evangelical 
party  was  tending,  almost  unconsciously  to  itself, 
towards  the  enfranchisement  of  the  Church.  It  was 
logically  led  to  this  in  its  anxiety  to  restore  synodical 
government  and  the  unity  of  the  faith.  It  was  soon 
brought  to  perceive  that  this  was  utterly  chimerical 
under  the  union  of  Church  and  State  in  the 
nineteenth  century,  because  it  was  impossible  for 
the  State  to  swerve  from  the  principle  of  absolute 
neutrality  in  matters  of  religion,  and  to  espouse  the 
cause  of  the  Evangelical  party. 

At  the  head  of  this  movement  was  one  of  the  most 
respected  and  beloved  pastors  of  the  Reformed 
Church  of  Paris,  the  brother  of  Adolphe  Monod,  and 
the  chief  editor  of  the  "  Archives  du  christianisme." 
Frederic  Monod  exerted  a  great  influence  over  the 
French  Protestantism  of  his  day.  United  to  his 
brother  by  the  tenderest  affection,  he  was  yet  of  a 
very  different  temperament.  One  of  the  most  gene- 
rous, faithful,  true-hearted  of  men,  he  had  neither  the 
oratorical  nor  the  theological  culture  of  Adolphe 
Monod.  He  remained  inflexibly  orthodox,  but  he 
had  so  much  largeness  of  heart  that  he  never  fell  into 
the  narrowness  and  injustice  too  often  associated  with 
severe  orthodoxy.  His  was  a  fresh  and  noble  soul ; 
his  cheerfulness  seemed  the  exuberance  of  moral 
health.  A  man  of  indefatigable  activity  and  sound 
judgment,  he  took  a  prominent  part  in  the  direction 
of  Christian  effort.     He  was  one  of  the  leaders  of  the 


ADOLPHE  MO  NOD.  215 

religious  revival  in  Paris.  He  was  to  show  subse- 
quently how  far  he  could  carry  the  spirit  of  self- 
sacrifice  at  the  call  of  what  seemed  to  him  duty.  His 
memory  is  still  held  dear,  and  is  venerated  not  only 
by  those  who,  like  ourselves,  from  our  very  cradle 
loved  him  as  a  father,  but  by  all  Evangelical  Pro- 
testants. 

Frederic  Monod  had  long  been  urging  in  his 
journal  the  necessity  of  reconstituting  the  Church 
upon  its  true  basis,  when  after  the  Revolution  of 
1848,  an  unofficial  synod  was  called  in  Paris  to  pre- 
pare a  scheme  of  reorganisation,  which  was  to  be 
submitted  to  the  government  of  the  Republic. 
Frederic  Monod,  supported  by  Count  Agenor  de 
Gasparin — whose  name  is  associated  with  all  that  is 
most  noble  and  chivalrous  in  our  day — urged  the 
synod  to  make  a  profession  of  evangelical  faith  the 
basis  of  the  ecclesiastical  constitution^  since  without 
this  there  could  be  no  Church.  -The  synod  could  not 
pass  such  a  vote  without  creating  schism,  and  splitting 
the  Protestant  body  in  two.  It  passed  to  the  order 
of  the  day  on  the  proposition  of  M.  Monod  and  M.  de 
Gasparin.  These  two  brethren,  who  might  have 
resigned  themselves  even  to  that  which  seemed  to 
them  the  worst  of  disorders,  when  it  arose  out  of  the 
unhappy  circumstances  of  the  time,  did  not  feel  that 
they  could  accept  the  prolongation  of  doctrinal 
anarchy  as  ratified  by  the  vote  of  the  Church.  MM. 
Monod  and  Gasparin  and  several  of  their  colleagues 


2 1 6  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

sent  in  their  resignation.  Shortly  after  Frederic 
Monod  left  his  pulpit  in  the  Oratoire,  to  commence 
a  new  ministry  in  a  humble  building,  without  any 
guarantee  for  his  own  support.  He  carried  with  him 
into  this  difficult  and  precarious  position  the  esteem 
of  all  right-hearted  people.  The  union  of  the  inde- 
pendent Evangelical  Churches  was  founded  in  conse- 
quence of  his  secession.  Poor  and  despised,  -they 
have  maintained  since  then  a  painful  existence. 
Theirs  will  always  be  the  honour  of  having  led  the 
way  in  the  direction  in  which  every  Church  which 
has  a  regard  at  once  for  evangelical  truth  and  for  its 
own  dignity,  is  now  tending,  as  one  attempt  after 
another  at  an  adequate  and  equitable  organisation  in 
union  with  the  State  is  found  to  fail.  The  synod  of 
1872  was  the  last  effort  in  this  direction. 

Adolphe  Monod  did  not  see  it  his  duty  to  follow 
his  brother  in  his  secession.  He  is  equally  entitled  to 
our  respect  for  a  decision  which  was  not  in  reality 
more  easy  to  him.  There  was  no  contradiction 
between  his  decision  of  September,  1848,  and  his 
conduct  in  Lyons  in  1832.  Eighteen  years  earlier  he 
had  been  equally  averse  to  secession,  and  had  allowed 
himself  to  be  dismissed  rather  than  quit  his  post  in 
the  Established  Church.  He  held  then,  as  in  1848, 
that  it  was  not  for  the  servant  of  the  Church  to  take 
the  initiative  in  a  question  of  this  kind.  His  motives 
are  clearly  explained  in  his  pamphlet,  "  Pourquoi  je 
reste     dans    l'eglise    etablie."       He    vindicates    his 


ADOLPHE  MONOD.  217 

preference  for  what  he  calls  the  path  of  spirituality 
over  the  path  of  secession.  Spirituality  in  the  eccle- 
siastical domain  seems  to  him  to  consist  in  patient 
continuance  in  Christian  activity  in  the  midst  of  a 
defective  organisation,  till,  by  a  simple  process  of 
growth,  the  chrysalis  form  should  be  cast  aside  and 
the  new  life  spring  into  new  developments.  He 
did  not  feel  it  to  be  obligatory  upon  him,  or  in 
accordance  with  the  will  of  God,  to  leave  the 
Established  Church,  unless  the  authorities  interfered 
with  him  in  the  performance  of  his  pastoral  duties. 
We  cannot  but  respect  his  motives,  for  they  were 
prompted  by  his  deep  Christian  conscientiousness. 
We  are  fully  convinced  that  Adolphe  Monod,  and 
those  who  shared  his  determination,  contributed  also 
in  their  way  to  prepare  the  Church  of  the  future. 
Indeed,  he  always  held  fast  the  true  principle  of  a 
Church,  and  with  all  his  breadth  and  toleration,  never 
accepted  the  system  of  a  heterogeneous  Church, 
having  no  bond  of  cohesion  but  the  State  budget, 
open  to  all  comers,  and  guided,  like  a  flock  of  sheep, 
by  the  crook  of  its  spiritual  leaders,  who  can  never 
be,  in  the  Protestant  Church,  other  than  a  bastard 
priesthood.  On  the  one  hand,  he  showed  himself 
entirely  free  from  all  ecclesiastical  superstition.  He 
even  went  so  far  as  to  declare  not  only  that  Jesus  had 
never  given  His  signature  to  any  ecclesiastical  organi- 
sation, but  that  He  had  not  even  formed  a  Church, 
strictly  so  called  ;  that  all  He  did  was  simply  to  unite 


2 1 8  CONTEMPORA  R  Y  FOR  TRA  ITS. 

His  disciples  by  a  purely  spiritual  bond,  by  instilling 
into  their  hearts  those  principles  of  truth  and  holi- 
ness which  He  knew  must  win  their  way,  and 
gradually  renew  the  whole  face  of  civil  and  religious 
society.1  On  the  other  hand,  Monod  accepted,  almost 
in  its  integrity,  the  ecclesiastical  theory  of  the  se- 
cessionists, and  the  new  Churches  appeared  to  him  to 
be  hurrying  on  the  separation  of  Church  and  State, 
which,  as  he  frankly  acknowledged,  "  would,  in  the 
existing  state  of  society,  be  a  blessing  from  God,  if  it 
came  in  God's  time."2 

It  is  in  the  definition  of  God's  time  that  we  differ 
from  him.  The  pressure  of  outward  circumstances 
is  not  the  only  sign  by  which  we  recognise  the  will  of 
God.  He  has  assigned  a  larger  part  than  this  to 
human  liberty,  and  great  reforms  have  been  courageous 
attempts  to  break  the  old  fetters,  which  will  not  give 
way  at  the  mere  groaning  of  the  captives.  Paul  was 
obliged  to  snap  with  a  strong  hand  the  cable  which 
bound  the  young  Church  to  the  shores  of  Judaism  ; 
and  it  was  only  when  this  had  been  done  that  the 
sails  of  the  vessel  filled  with  the  wind  which  was  to 
bear  it  onward.  All  the  reforming  zeal  of  the  ardent 
controversialist,  the  courageous  innovator  of  the  first 
Christian  century,  is  passed  over  in  silence  in  the 
grand  sermons  devoted  by  Adolphe  Monod  to  his 
life  teaching.     He  also  failed  to  do  full  justice  to  the 

111  Pourquoi  je  demeure,"  &c,  p.  75.  "  Ibid.  p.  8. 


ADOLPHE  MONOD.  219 

holy  boldness  of  the  Reformers.  Spirituality  must 
not  be  confounded  with  all-enduring  patience,  where 
the  interests  and  order  of  the  Church  of  Christ  are 
involved.  There  is  a  yet  higher  spirituality,  which 
consists  in  the  courage  to  sacrifice  immediate  and 
visible  success  in  religious  matters,  to  a  future  which 
may  seem  uncertain. 

We  do  not  mean  by  these  remarks  to  imply  any 
blame  to  Adolphe  Monod  for  the  course  on  which  he 
decided  in  the  sight  of  God  and  for  the  benefit  of  His 
Church.  His  heart  was  not  narrowed  in  its  sympathies 
even  by  the  controversies  which  sometimes  grew 
sharp  and  hot.  He  never  shared  at  all  in  that  absurd 
bigotry  which  will  only  recognise  the  Reformed 
Church  of  France  in  one  particular  form  of  it,  and 
which  speaks  sentimentally  of  the  holy  traditions  of 
the  Fathers  when  it  is  referring  only  to  the  laws  of 
Germinal  year  X.  The  decision  of  Adolphe  Monod 
cost  him  all  the  more,  since  it  placed  him  in  oppo- 
sition to  the  brother  whom  he  tenderly  loved.  He 
aptly  expressed  the  feelings  with  which  his  heart 
was  full,  when  he  compared  this  passing  difference  to 
that  which  separated  for  a  time  Paul  and  Barnabas. 

"  At  the  very  time,"  he  says,  "  when  Barnabas  was  embark- 
ing for  the  island  of  Cyprus,  I  see  Paul  going  up  to  him,  grasping 
him  by  the  hand,  and  bidding  him  God-speed  ;  and  by  and  by 
Barnabas  stands  on  the  deck  of  the  ship,  following  in  thought 
his  beloved  brother  Paul  as  he  goes  again  on  foot  through  Syria 
visiting  the  Churches  ;  and  as  he  asks  that  the  grace  of  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ  may  be  with  him,  his  eyes  fill  with  tears  at  the 


220  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

recollection  of  their  joint  labours  in  the  past.  Yet  a  few  years, 
and  we  find  Paul  and  Barnabas  together  again,  tenderly  united 
in  faith  and  works.  Perhaps  the  present  separation  between  us 
and  our  brothers  who  go  out  from  us,  may  also  be  but  for  a 
time.  Assuredly  neither  the  Church  in  which  we  remain,  nor 
the  Church  which  is  being  founded  side  by  side  with  ours, 
answers  fully  the  conditions  of  that  Church  of  the  future  to 
which  we  all  look  forward,  and  towards  which  we  are  all  hasten- 
ing. But  who  knows  whether  both  the  one  and  the  other  may 
not  help  to  prepare  its  way."  x 

We  share  these  aspirations.  Whether  our  eyes 
may  see  it  or  not,  the  blessed  day  will  come  when 
the  Reformed  Church,  having  prepared  itself  for  the 
beneficent  reign  of  liberty,  as  it  has  already  begun  to 
do  since  it  has  ceased  to  seek  to  secure  its  ends  by 
means  of  State  intervention,  will  renew  the  most 
glorious  traditions  of  its  past  history,  and  will  realise 
that  ideal  of  fidelity,  of  breadth  and  of  independence, 
which  is  our  standard,  as  it  was  that  of  Adolphe 
Monod. 

VI. 

In  1849  Adolphe  Monod  was  appointed  pastor,  and 
he  devoted  himself  unsparingly  to  a  task  which  was 
soon  to  exhaust  his  strength.  His  was  a  grand 
ministry.  His  preaching  exercised  an  ever-increasing 
influence,  and  he  devoted  more  and  more  care  to  it. 
Perhaps  it  cost  him  a  greater  mental  effort,  after  he  had 
accepted  the  possibility  of  moulding  a  new  theology, 

1  "  Pourquoi  je  demeure/'  &c,  p.  89. 


ADOLPHE  MONOD.  221 

within  limits,  however,  which  he  never  allowed  himself 
to  pass.  He  could  not  henceforth  bring  his  influence 
to  bear  in  one  direction  only ;  he  saw  more  and  more 
clearly  that  truth  had  two  poles.  His  sermons  at 
this  period  sometimes  betray  this  new  complication, 
which  was,  in  truth,  an  expansion  of  his  views.  The 
plan  of  his  preaching  is  less  methodical,  his  language 
less  positive,  but  the  preacher  has  made  great  ad- 
vances in  the  psychological  and  apologetic  treatment 
of  his  subject.  He  is  more  real,  more  modern,  more 
in  harmony  with  the  age.  In  passages,  too,  we  find 
all  his  old  fire  and  brilliancy,  as  in  the  sermons,  "  If 
any  Man  thirst ;  "  "  Give  Me  thine  Heart ;  "  "  Mary 
Magdalen  ; "  "  Too  Late,"  and  others. 

In  his  sermon  on  "  Exclusiveness "  Monod  com- 
pares the  fervent  faith,  which  cannot  acquiesce  in  any 
violence  done  to  the  truth,  to  the  real  mother  in  the 
judgment  of  Solomon,  whose  mother's  heart  cries  out 
against  the  sword  lifted  to  divide  her  child,  while  the 
pretended  mother,  like  the  half-sceptical  latitudina- 
rianism  of  our  day,  stands  by  unmoved.  The  illus- 
tration is  a  very  happy  one.  We  have  already  drawn 
attention  to  the  admirable  course  of  sermons  on  St. 
Paul. 

Pastoral  duties  occupied  a  large  share  of  Adolphe 
Monod's  time,  especially  the  religious  instruction  of 
the  young.  He  was  resorted  to  by  catechumens  from 
all  parts  of  France.  This  was  one  of  his  most  im- 
portant spheres  of  usefulness,  and  the  results  of  the 


222  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

influence  thus  exerted  are  still  felt  in  numbers  of 
homes.  The  whole  of  evangelical  Protestantism 
came  to  look  to  him  more  and  more  as  its  leader  and 
model.  His  reputation  spread  far  beyond  his  own 
country.  He  visited  England  more  than  once,  and 
addressed  large  assemblies  in  English,  with  which  he 
was  thoroughly  familiar.  He  occupied  a  place  of 
honour  in  the  first  great  CEcumenical  Assembly  of 
the  Evangelical  Alliance  held  in  London  in  July,  185 1. 
The  object  was  one  which  called  forth  all  the  sym- 
pathies of  his  large  and  loving  heart,  and  we  heard 
him  speak  in  Exeter  Hall  on  this  occasion  in  a  way 
worthy  of  himself. 

It  was  in  1854  that  he  felt  the  first  germs  of  the 
malady  which  was  rapidly  to  undermine  his  strength. 
He  went  on  working,  however,  till  he  was  utterly 
spent.  After  a  long  rest  during  the  summer  months, 
he  resumed  preaching  ;  but  the  effort  cost  him  such 
intense  suffering  that  he  could  only  continue  it  at 
irregular  intervals.  On  Whit-Sunday,  in  the  month  of 
June,  1855,  he  preached  for  the  last  time.  The  sermon 
is  still  unpublished,  but  we  have  seen  the  notes  of  it. 
It  is  the  song  of  the  reaper  binding  up  his  sheaves. 
Never  was  his  enfeebled  voice  more  thrilling  in  its 
tones  ;  never  did  his  thought  take  a  loftier  range  ;  never 
did  his  piety  seem  more  deep  and  tender.  The  text  he 
had  chosen  was  that  glorious  promise  of  Christ,  "  If 
any  man  drink  of  this  water,  he  shall  thirst  again  : 
but  whosoever  shall  drink  of  the  water  that  I  shall 


ADOLPHE  MO  NOD. 


223 


give  him  shall  never  thirst  ;  but  the  water  that  I 
shall  give  him  shall  be  in  him  a  well  of  water  spring- 
ing up  into  everlasting  life."  *  It  is  easy  to  imagine 
how  the  preacher  would  use  the  comparison  between 
the  fleeting  and  uncertain  joys  of  the  world,  and  that 
infinite,  inexhaustible  well  of  life  which  the  Divine 
Spirit  opens  in  the  soul. 

"Worldly  happiness,"  he  exclaimed,  "the  happiness  that 
comes  from  a  certain  amount  of  wealth,  and  from  no  other  ; 
from  a  certain  disposition  of  body  and  mind,  and  no  other  ; 
from  some  one  creature,  and  no  other  ;  at  a  certain  time,  and 
no  other  ;  from  youth,  not  from  age  ;  from  health,  not  from 
sickness  ;  from  fortune,  not  from  poverty  ;  from  summer,  not 
from  winter  ;  from  sunshine,  not  from  rain — let  us  hear  no  more 
of  happiness  like  this.  We  have  been  in  pursuit  of  this  happi- 
ness long  enough,  and  it  has  left  us  panting  and  disappointed, 
and  all  the  more  miserable  the  higher  our  hopes  had  been 
raised.  But  here  is  a  source  of  happiness  that  can  satisfy  us 
always,  perfectly,  for  ever.  There  is  no  craving  so  large  that 
this  is  not  enough  for  it,  or  so  deep  that  this  cannot  fill  it  to 
overflowing  ;  no  aspiration  after  holiness  so  high  that  this  does 
not  rise  above  it,  none  so  deep-seated  that  this  does  not  go 
below  it.  It  is  God  Himself  giving  Himself  in  the  form  of  man 
to  man." 

In  this  sermon  Adolphe  Monod  makes  free  use  of 
that  vein  of  mysticism  which  for  many  years  had 
given  graphic  force  to  his  words.  It  is  touching  to 
read  the  closing  passage,  in  which  he  refers  so  calmly 
to  himself  and  his  sufferings. 

"Happy  people,"  he  says,  "to  whom  God  has  been  pleased 
to  give  the  kingdom,  do  not  lose  courage.  Only  believe,  and 
you  shall  see  the  glory  of  God.     In  the  Holy  Spirit  we  have 

1  John  iv.  13,  14. 


224  CONTEMPORAR  V  PORTRAITS. 

infinite  resources,  and  resources  which  may  be  made  more 
abundant  by  the  cutting  off  of  every  other  supply.  Yes,  God 
the  Holy  Spirit  within  us  can  make  us  even  more  happy  by  the 
loss  of  earthly  joy,  more  strong  by  the  loss  of  our  own  strength, 
more  holy  by  the  ever-deepening  sense  of  our  low  and  lost  estate. 
For  myself,  whom  my  failing  health  compels  to  bid  you  again 
farewell,  perhaps  for  many  months,  I  have  much  need  to  rest  in 
this  comforting  doctrine.  Broken  down  and  enfeebled  as  I  am, 
I  yet  believe  that  there  remains  a  spiritual  ministry  for  me  to 
exercise,  more  fruitful,  perhaps,  than  any  that  has  preceded  it, 
and  for  which  God  is  preparing  me  by  trial.  Yes,  my  faithful 
friends  in  Christ,  I  have  this  confidence— that  this  sickness  is 
for  the  glory  of  God,  and  that,  whether  I  recover  or  not,  it  will 
enable  me  to  do  the  will  of  God  more  perfectly.  This  will  be 
the  subject  of  my  prayers  during  my  painful  absence  from  you, 
and  it  is  this  that  I  would  have  you  ask  in  your  prayers  for  me. 
Our  very  preaching  needs  to  be  renewed  by  the  Holy  Ghost. 
It  is  He  who  will  enable  us  to  pass  from  the  preaching  of  the 
lip  to  the  preaching  of  the  life,  from  the  word  of  teaching  to  the 
word  of  possession,  from  the  word  which  sets  forth  the  truth, 
to  the  word  which  makes  us  one  with  Him  who  is  the  truth  and 
the  life." 

These  were  the  novissima  verba  of  the  preacher. 

We  shall  not  dwell  at  any  length  on  the  last  suffer- 
ings of  Adolphe  Monod.  All  are  familiar  with  his 
own  touching  memorials  of  them.  His  "Adieux"  form 
part  of  that  treasury  of  Christian  mysticism  in  which 
the  afflicted  seek  holy  examples  and  efficient  consola- 
tion. They  contain  the  last  exhortations  of  the  dying 
pastor,  who  every  Sunday  gathered  around  his  bed  a 
little  circle  of  friends,  among  whom  all  denominations 
were  represented,  and  partook  with  them  of  the  Holy 
Communion,  as  a  renewed  proof  of  that  evangelical 
catholicity  of  which  he  had  been  so  faithful  an  apostle. 


ADOLPHE  MONOD.  225 

"When  the  Lord's  Supper  was  distributed,"  we  read  in  the  In- 
troduction to  the  "  Adieux,"  "M.  Monod  would  speak  in  accents 
of  such  quiet  serenity,  of  such  deep  and  tender  love  for  those 
whom  he  was  exhorting,  sometimes  even  of  such  power  and 
thrilling  eloquence,  as  those  who  were  used  to  hear  him  at  other 
times  can  partly  imagine,  but  only  those  who  were  present  in 
those  solemn  hours  of  a  closing  life,  can  really  understand.  All 
such  cherish  the  recollection  as  among  the  purest  and  holiest 
memories  of  their  life.  '  My  life  is  my  ministry,'  he  said,  '  and 
I  will  exercise  it  till  my  latest  breath.'  "1 

His  face,  pale  and  emaciated  by  suffering,  was  ra- 
diant with  hope  and  immortality  ;  the  divine  flame 
shone  through  the  frail  earthly  tenement.  In  these 
last  testamentary  words  the  preacher  summed  up  his 
teaching,  and  cast  it  sometimes  into  a  more  exact 
form  than  he  had  used  for  many  years.  He  endea- 
voured to  concentrate  his  belief  in  a  few  pregnant 
statements,  without  detracting  anything  from  that 
mysticism  which  had  of  late  characterised  his  preach- 
ing. The  importance  which  he  attaches  to  the  Living 
Word  is  in  no  way  abated,  though  he  dwells  more 
upon  the  written  word.  The  exhortations  which  have 
been  published  in  a  connected  form  under  the  title, 
"  Les  Adieux  d'un  Mourant,"  are  peculiarly  touching. 
I  extract  from  them  the  following  sentences  : 

"  O  the  unutterable  sweetness  of  the  rest  that  we  find  at  the 
foot  of  the  Cross  !  Let  us  grasp  the  Cross,  preach  the  Cross, 
die  clasping  it  in  our  arms,  die  proclaiming  it  to  the  world,  and 
death  will  be  the  beginning  of  our  life.  Let  none  rest  till  he  has 
found  rest  at  the  foot  of  the  Cross  of  his  Saviour  God,  though  he 

1  "  Adieux,"  p.  34. 
16 


226  CONTEMPORARY  PORTRAITS. 

may  be  driven  to  it  by  windy  storms  and  tempests,  and  may 
sink  rom  mere  exhaustion  into  that  place  which  he  will  never 
wish  to  leave  again."  T 

A  very  short  time  before  his  death  he  composed  a 
hymn  on  the  resurrection,  which  expresses  with  manly 
vigour  the  steadfastness  of  his  hope.  He  was  too 
purely  an  orator  to  be  a  poet  in  the  special  sense  of 
that  word,  although  his  language  was  richly  poetical, 
as  is  all  eloquence  worthy  of  the  name.  His  hymn  on 
Christian  gratitude  has  become  classic  in  our  language. 
We  quote  one  verse  : 

"  Que  ne  puis-je,  6  mon  Dieu,  Dieu  de  ma  delivrance, 
Remplir  de  ta  louange  et  la  terre  et  les  cieux, 
Les  prendre  pour  tdmoins  de  ma  reconnaissance, 
Et  dire  au  monde  entier  combien  je  suis  heureux." 

The  hymn  on  the  resurrection  is  a  translation  into 
verse  of  an  admirable  sermon,  which  we  remember 
hearing  Adolphe  Monod  preach  at  Easter  1844,  in 
the  Reformed  Church  of  Marseilles.  It  had  at  the 
time  all  the  character  of  an  extempore  address.  The 
idea  is  very  beautiful.  The  inhabitants  of  the  spirit 
world,  devils  and  angels,  are  represented  bending  over 
the  open  sepulchre  of  Christ,  and  expressing  their 
feelings  about  His  victory. 

The  humble  Christian,  groaning  upon  his  bed  of 
pain,  echoes  the  anthems  of  the  angels. 

"  Ma  faible  voix  s'unit  a  ce  concert  immense, 
Et  tout  en  moi,  Seigneur,  t'adore  et  te  benit  ; 

1  "  Adieux,"  pp.  60-66. 


ADOLPHE  MONOD.  227 

Ame,  esprit,  cceur,  vers  toi  tout  mon  etre  s'elance, 
Et  de  joie  et  d'amour  ma  chair  meme  fremit. 


Pour  lutter  dans  les  maux,  dans  les  cris,  dans  les  larmes, 
Je  ne  suis  que  langueur,  faiblesse  et  lachete  ; 
Mais  lave  dans  ton  sang,  et  couvert  de  tes  armes, 
Je  puis  tout  en  Jesus,  mort  et  ressuscite."  l 

The  30th  of  March  was  the  last  Sunday  which 
Adolphe  Monod  passed  upon  earth.  He  had  chosen 
for  the  subject  of  his  address  the  love  of  God,  and 
took  as  his  text  Psalm  c. 

"  I  have  only  strength  enough  left,"  he  said,  "  to  dwell  upon  the 
love  of  God.  God  has  loved  us  :  this  is  the  whole  doctrine  of 
the  gospel.  Let  us  love  God  ;  this  is  the  whole  of  its  morality. 
Hardly  knowing  if  I  can  make  you  hear  me,  I  gather  up  my 
little  remaining  strength,  that  we  may  call  together  upon  the 
eternal  and  infinite  love  of  God.  O  God,  who  art  love,  who  hast 
done,  art  doing,  wilt  do  nothing  to  us  but  in  love,  how  can  I 
thank  Thee  enough,  as  I  see  around  me  these  brethren  whom 
love  has  gathered  here  by  my  bed  of  sickness,  of  suffering,  and 
of  what  else  Thou  alone  canst  know.  I  have  rejoiced  in  their 
love.  To  whom  was  ever  more  love  shown?  Therefore,  my 
God,  I  thank  Thee,  and  I  thank  Thee  still  more,  if  it  is  possible, 
for  Thy  love  which  has  so  much  afflicted  but  so  much  sustained 
me  ;  and  I  confess  before  these  my  friends  that  Thou  hast  never 
let  me  want  for  help,  though  I  have  often  failed  in  faith  and 
patience  ;  and  that  I  am  far  from  having  yet  attained  to  that 
perfect  patience  for  which  I  long.  But  Thou,  Thou  hast  been 
to  me  all  goodness,  and  while  life  or  strength  remain  I  will  never 
cease  to  praise  Thee  before  my  brethren." 

1  "  JCsus-Christ  ressuscitant  des  morts.  Dec.  1855.  Souvenir 
aux  amis  qui  prient  pour  moi." — Sold  for  the  benefit  of  the 
Evangelical  Church  of  Lyons. 


228  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

After  enumerating  with  deep  emotion  the  many 
tokens  of  that  sovereign  love  which  had  been  ever 
around  him,  his  broken  voice  faltered  out  his  last 
hymn  of  praise  to  Christ,  his  life,  his  all,  "  with  whom," 
he  said,  "  I  am  about  to  enter  the  everlasting  mansions, 


We  two  are  so  joined, 
He'll  not  be  in  glory  and  leave  me  behind.' " 

In  one  last  effort  of  brotherly  love,  he  brings  to  the 
foot  of  the  Cross,  all  the  sufferings  and  sorrows  of  his 
brethren,  bearing  them  with  tender  compassion  on  his 
heart.  "  I  am  suffering  greatly,"  he  said  at  last ;  "  my 
joy  and  my  hymn  of  praise  are  much  dulled  by  these 
sufferings,  and  by  the  constant  exhaustion ;  but  Thou, 
Lord,  hast  sustained  me  till  now,  and  I  have  this  con- 
fidence, that  my  prayers  and  those  of  my  family  will 
obtain  for  me  patience  to  the  end."  His  last  utterance 
to  his  friends  was  praise  and  benediction  ;  "Grace  and 
peace  be  with  you  all  now  and  for  ever." 

I  shall  never  forget  the  impression  which  this  prayer 
of  the  dying  man  produced  on  one  of  the  most  emi- 
nent and  excellent  representatives  of  the  highest  cul- 
ture of  our  day  in  France,  M.  de  Remusat,  whom  I 
induced  to  read  it  at  a  time  when  he  was  plunged  in 
sudden  and  overwhelming  sorrow.  It  struck  him  as 
one  of  the  grandest  utterances  of  that  Christian  faith 
which  he  respected,  without  being  prepared  to  accept 
its  mysteries. 


ADOLPHE  MONOD.  229 

The  last  week  of  Adolphe  Monod's  life  was  devoted 
to  tender  leave-takings  with  his  own  family.  We 
will  not  lift  the  veil  of  this  sacred  sorrow,  though  to 
do  so  might  show  how  exquisite  Is  the  blending  of 
human  affection  with  Christian  devotion,  and  how  far 
more  heroic  than  stoicism. 

On  Saturday,  April  6th,  he  fell  asleep  in  Jesus,  and 
the  Tuesday  following  he  was  borne  to  the  grave 
amid  the  tears  of  his  flock  and  the  deep  sorrow  of  the 
whole  Protestant  Church,  every  section  of  which  was 
represented  at  his  funeral.  No  words  could  express 
the  affection,  respect,  and  gratitude  testified  by  the 
survivors. 

In  his  last  sermon  but  one,  preached  in  the  church 
of  the  Oratoire,  during  the  winter  of  1855,  when  he 
was  already  so  weakened  by  illness  that  he  was 
doubtful  whether  he  would  be  able  to  finish  his  ser- 
mon, Adolphe  Monod  had  described,  in  powerful 
language,  the  poverty  and  lowness  of  our  religious 
life.  Then  in  a  tone  of  intense  earnestness,  which 
seems  to  ring  in  my  ears  still,  he  said  :  "  It  must  be 
known  when  I  am  gone  that  I  was  not  satisfied  with 
a  Christianity  like  this,  even  when  I  was  in  the  body." 
Thus  he  expressed  the  deep  yearning  of  his  soul  after 
that  Church  of  the  future,  which  was  ever  increasingly 
the  object  of  his  desires  and  of  his  efforts.  We  find 
united  in  him  a  happy  assurance  of  faith  with  a 
yearning  so  intense  as  to  become  almost  an  agony 
after  the  highest  ideal  of  truth  and  holiness,  or  rather, 


230  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

after  the  fuller  realisation  of  the  type  of  perfectness 
given  in  Jesus  Christ.  We  cannot  but  be  struck  with 
the  same  blending  of  ecstatic  joy  and  unutterable 
sadness  in  St.  Paul,  in  Pascal,  and  in  all  great  Chris- 
tian souls.  Love,  when  it  is  true  and  deep,  touches 
both  extremes,  supremely  happy  in  the  possession  of 
its  God,  yet  grieved  not  to  apprehend  Him  more  fully 
and  to  glorify  Him  more,  and  deeply  wounded  by  the 
rebellion  and  perversity  of  sinners. 

Such  was  the  joy  bequeathed  to  the  Church  by  the 
Man  of  Sorrows — a  joy  tempered  with  the  tears  of 
love,  but  bright  with  its  heavenly  radiance.  It  was 
his  Christ-likeness  in  this  respect  which  made  Adolphe 
Monod  one  of  the  grandest  Christians  of  our  genera- 
tion, and  one  of  the  most  powerful  witnesses  of  the 
everlasting  gospel. 


ALEXANDRE    VI NET. 


ALEXANDRE  VINET7 

WE  live  in  an  age  of  restless,  almost  feverish 
activity,  yet  in  an  age  which,  by  a  sort  of 
paradox,  seems  more  disposed  than  any  other  to  the 
contemplation  of  the  phenomena  of  the  inward  and 
spiritual  life.  It  abounds  in  biographies  of  this  order. 
We  are  no  longer  amused,  even  in  France,  with 
memoirs  which  treat  human  life  purely  as  a  comedy, 
drawing  back  the  curtain  only  to  throw  an  ironical 
light  on  all  the  foibles  and  paltry  disguises  of  the 
actors.  This  style,  once  so  peculiarly  French  in  its 
fascination  and  in  its  heartlessness,  has  almost  passed 
away  from  our  literature.  Beside  the  great  parlia- 
mentary memoirs,  which  hand  down  to  posterity  the 
eloquence  of  the  tribune,  and  the  authors  of  which 
studiously  avoid  all  familiarity  as  unworthy  the  dig- 
nity of  their  subject,  we  have  an  abundance  of  pri- 
vate memoirs  which,  by  means  of  correspondence  and 

1  "Alexandre  Vinet.     Histoirede  saVie  et  de  ses  Ouvrages," 
par  E.  Rambert. 


234  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

autobiographic  journals,  give  us  an  insight  into  the 
hidden  life  of  our  contemporaries.  With  their  help 
we  are  enabled  to  penetrate  to  those  soul-depths  from 
which  we  are  often  told  that  eternal  questions  are  in 
our  day  excluded,  but  which  we  find  to  be  more  pro- 
foundly exercised  than  ever  before,  over  the  solution 
of  spiritual  problems.  "  Les  Lettres  du  Pere  Lacor- 
daire  a  Madame  Swetchine,"  "  Les  Recits  d'une  Sceur," 
the  letters  of  the  two  Amperes  ;  the  later  volumes  of 
the  "  Correspondance  de  Lamartine,"  the  "  Biographie 
du  Pere  Gratry,"  and  (belonging  to  a  different  order) 
the  "Autobiography  of  Stuart  Mill" — all  these  re- 
markable works  bring  us  into  the  very  midst  of  what 
I  may  call  the  spiritual  drama;  the  conflict  perpetu- 
ally renewed  in  our  day,  between  liberal  aspirations 
and  positive  dogmas,  or,  it  may  be,  between  the  thesis 
of  philosophy  and  the  unsatisfied  yearning  of  the 
heart  and  conscience. 

The  life  of  Vinet,  which  is  before  us  now,  forms 
a  very  important  addition  to  this  spiritual  history  of 
our  age,  bringing  before  us  one  of  its  most  powerful 
minds,  and  allowing  us  to  learn  from  himself  how  his 
genius  was  formed  and  developed.  M.  Rambert,  the 
biographer  of  Vinet,  simply  gives  us  the  connecting 
thread  between  the  extracts  from  his  correspondence 
or  his  private  notes  ;  his  aim  is  to  allow  Vinet  on  all 
subjects  to  speak  for  himself.  He  has  executed  his 
task  in  a  manner  worthy  of  one  of  the  most  distin- 
guished writers  of  French  Switzerland,  a  land  to  which 


ALEXANDRE  VINET.  235 

we  are  indebted  for  so  many  remarkable  works.  We 
recognise  with  hearty  admiration  the  studious  self- 
repression  which  has  thrown  all  the  light  on  to  the 
great  central  figure  of  his  picture.  He  has  thus  the 
rare  merit  of  bringing  before  us  a  living  likeness,  in 
no  respect  overdrawn. 

Sainte-Beuve  was  the  first  to  call  the  attention  of 
France  to  the  genius  of  Vinet,  for  whom  he  never 
ceased  to  testify  the  highest  admiration.  M.  Scherer 
also  wrote  a  very  warm  and  appreciative  notice  of 
Vinet,  in  which  the  keen  sagacity  of  the  critic  was 
tempered  by  the  affection  and  deferential  sympathy 
of  a  personal  friend.  M.  Astie,  a  French  professor  at 
Lausanne,  published,  under  the  title  "  Esprit  de  Vinet," 
a  very  admirable  collection  of  his  opinions  on  the 
various  subjects  which  had  come  before  him.  Pre- 
sented in  this  form,  and  apart  from  their  proper  sur- 
roundings, the  ideas  may  seem  somewhat  overcrowded, 
the  sheaf  almost  too  heavy  with  the  ripe  golden  grain. 
The  collection  is,  nevertheless,  a  very  valuable  one,  and 
it  called  forth  several  fresh  studies  of  Vinet,  notably 
that  of  M.  -Saint  Rene  Taillandier  in  the  Revue  des 
Deux  Mondes. 

M.  Rambert's  work  appears  to  us  exhaustive,  so 
abundant  were  the  sources  of  information  open  to 
him.  It  gives  us  the  portrait  of  Vinet  drawn  by  his 
own  hand,  without  any  thought  of  the  public  eye,  in 
presence  of  which  it  is  almost  impossible  not  to  atti- 
tudinise a  little.     Our  endeavour  will  be  to  reproduce 


236  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

this  noble  spiritual  presence  by  the  aid  of  M.  Ram- 
bert's  book  and  of  our  own  personal  recollections,  for 
it  was  our  inestimable  privilege  to  be  for  three  years 
a  diligent  listener  to  Vinet,  and  to  enjoy  a  close 
friendship  with  the  Pascal  of  the  Reformed  Church. 

This  is  the  name  that  most  fitly  describes  him, 
whether  we  consider  the  breadth  of  his  religious  sym- 
pathies, his  character  as  a  writer,  his  unflinching 
sincerity,  or  that  trait  of  melancholy  which  is  com- 
mon to  all  great  Christian  souls.  We  may  add  that 
Vinet,  like  Pascal — of  whom  he  was  the  most  faithful 
interpreter — graduated  in  the  stern  school  of  sickness, 
and  that  it  was  while  contending  with  an  incurable 
bodily  malady  that  he  accomplished  his  vast  intellec- 
tual labours.  His  whole  spirit,  soul,  and  body  were 
tried  and  purified  in  the  crucible  of  constant  suffering. 
But  Vinet  was  a  son  of  the  Reformation,  not  a 
timorous  disciple  of  Port  Royal.  His  glance  was  not 
more  penetrating  than  that  of  Pascal,  but  his  hori- 
zon was  wider,  his  spirit  more  unfettered.  He  is 
thoroughly  the  man  of  his  age,  passing  through  its 
storm  and  tempest.  His  faith  is  controlled  by  a 
critical  spirit :  though  fixed  in  its  principle,  it  does 
not  shrink  from  a  testing  examination,  and  cannot 
rest  satisfied  with  an  assurance  based  only  on  ex- 
ternal authority,  which  it  rejects  as  false  and  illusive. 
His  intellect  never  laid  upon  itself  any  monkish 
fetters  ;  it  remained  thoroughly  and  broadly  human. 
In   fine,  Vinet  was   one  of  the  grandest  and   truest 


ALEXANDRE  VINET.  237 

Liberals  of  our  time,  and  religious  liberty  in  its 
fullest  expression  has  had  no  more  determined  and 
powerful  defender.  It  may  be  asked,  perhaps,  why 
such  a  man  was  not  better  known  in  his  generation  ? 
Sainte-Beuve  excited  a  surprise  not  unmixed  with 
irony,  when  he  dedicated  to  Vinet  one  of  his  most 
beautiful  literary  sketches.  He  was  accused  of  sacri- 
ficing to  unknown  gods.  It  is  easy  to  explain  the 
semi-obscurity  in  which  Vinet  has  remained  as  re- 
gards France.  In  the  first  place,  he  preferred  to  be 
in  the  background  ;  he  was  as  studious  in  hiding  him- 
self from  the  public  gaze  as  others  are  in  courting  it. 
This  large-minded  man  was  an  ascetic,  and  this  union 
of  the  most  exalted  liberalism,  altogether  free  from 
any  sectarian  prejudice,  with  an  austerity  almost 
without  parallel  towards  himself,  is  not  the  least  of  his 
idiosyncrasies.  These  significant  words  were  found 
inscribed  on  the  memorandum-book  which  contained 
his  most  private  meditations :  "  The  love  of  glory  is 
the  dangerous  neighbour  of  the  love  of  truth  ;  the 
one  loses  all  that  the  other  gains."  Vinet  loved  the 
truth,  and  not  glory.  Hence,  his  unfeigned  contempt 
for  everything  which  would  have  made  him  prominent, 
and  his  repeated  refusal  of  positions  in  which  he  might 
have  become  a  central  luminary. 

Distance  from  Paris  is  a  very  grave  disadvantage  in 
the  eyes  of  the  dispensers  of  fame.  They  are  ready  to 
say,  like  the  Rabbis  in  the  temple,  "  Can  any  good 
thing  come  out  of  Nazareth  ?  "     They  look  with  con- 


238  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

tempt  on  all  that  transpires  outside  that  centre  of 
science  and  civilisation  in  which  they  reign  as  kings. 
Thus,  however  important  the  discussions  that  may 
arise  in  small  and  remote  countries  like  Switzerland, 
they  are  regarded  as  insignificant  by  superficial  minds 
because  of  the  narrow  limits  of  the  arena  in  which 
they  are  first  agitated.  And  yet  the  fire  kindled  by 
this  tiny  spark  has  sometimes  spread  through  all 
Europe,  and  made  an  era  in  the  destiny  of  nations. 

The  discussion  of  religious  liberty  raised  the  same 
questions  in  French  Switzerland  which  Mirabeau  had 
argued  from  the  tribune  of  the  Constituent  Assembly, 
and  which  subsequently  set  all  the  four  corners  of 
Europe  in  a  blaze.  This  must  be  borne  in  mind  as 
we  read  the  detailed  account  of  those  discussions  in 
which  Vinet  took  so  large  a  part.  That  which  seems 
at  first  sight  a  quarrel  about  trifles,  will  be  found  to 
involve  really  the  issues  of  the  great  controversy 
between  the  authority  of  the  State  and  liberty  of 
conscience,  which  has  come  to  a  crisis  in  our  own  day. 
We  must  remember  also  that  Vinet  belonged  to  the 
religion  of  the  minority,  which  is  another  reason  for 
his  being  left  in  the  shade,  M.  Guizot  said  one  day, 
in  his  great  voice,  to  a  young  Protestant  writer  :  "  Sir, 
you  were  born  in  a  corner ;  try  to  get  out  of  it." 
This  Vinet  never  attempted  to  do.  But  from  that 
obscure  corner  of  Switzerland,  which  Parisians  re- 
garded so  slightingly,  he  exercised  a  deep  and  wide 
influence  over  the  great  Protestant  nations  which,  in 


ALEXANDRE  VI NET.  239 

the  nineteenth  century,  have  carried  their  civilisation 
and  culture  to  so  high  a  point.  Among  these  nations 
he  is  still  recognised  to-day  as  an  intellectual  king, 
and  it  will  be  the  worse  for  France  if  she  fails  to  pay 
homage  to  his  just  claims. 

Balzac,  in  his  famous  quarrel  with  Sainte-Beuve, 
rallied  the  author  of  the  "  Portraits  Litteraires  "  with 
a  satirical  laugh,  on  the  tribute  he  had  paid  to  so 
obscure  a  man  as  Vinet.  The  laugh  may  well  be 
turned  by  posterity  against  himself,  for  ignoring  a 
man  of  world-wide  fame. 

France  is  beginning  to  appreciate  truly  this  great 
Christian  Liberal.  His  teaching  is  destined  to  win 
its  widening  way,  and  to  leave  a  deep  furrow  even  in 
our  light  soil,  for  it  responds  to  all  the  higher  aspira- 
tions of  the  national  life,  political,  religious  and 
philosophical.  France  could  find  no  better  counsellor 
than  Vinet  in  her  efforts  to  conclude  that  great  alli- 
ance between  religion  and  liberty  in  the  fullest  sense, 
without  which  French  democracy  will  fail  to  stand, 
and  religion  will  lose  its  empire  over  the  souls  of  free 
men. 

We  shall  endeavour  to  reproduce,  with  the  aid  of 
M.  Rambert's  book,  the  leading  features  in  the  life 
and  work  of  this  remarkable  man, 

I. 

Vinet  was  born  at  Ouchy,  near  Lausanne,  in  1797, 
and  died  at  Montreux  in  1847,  in  the  full  maturity  of 


240  CONTEMPORA RY  POR  TRA  ITS. 

his  powerful  faculties.  His  outward  life  was  singularly 
uneventful.  He  travelled  but  rarely,  and  then  only 
for  the  sake  of  health,  and  as  rapidly  as  possible. 
"  Not  being  able  to  travel  in  person,"  he  wrote  to  a 
friend,  "  I  allow  my  imagination  to  travel.  The  only 
true  liberty  is  in  a  state  of  dependence  frankly 
accepted."  This  is  Vinet  in  his  true  character — the 
captive  of  duty,  but  with  the  free  mind  which  spreads 
its  wings  in  all  the  realms  of  thought.  Though  he 
scarcely  ever  left  his  study,  his  life  was  full  of  varied 
and  lively  interest.  His  unpretending  little  room 
reminds  us  of  Rembrandt's  picture  in  the  Louvre,  of 
the  philosopher  resting  his  tired  head  upon  his  hand, 
after  a  long  day  of  mental  toil.  The  bare  walls  are 
draped  with  the  glory  of  the  sunset,  but  the  face  of 
the  old  man  kindles  with  a  yet  more  unearthly  bright- 
ness. We  feel  that  these  four  walls  enclose  that 
which  is  mightiest  upon  earth  ;  thoughts  which  can 
flood  the  world  with  renovating  light.  Within  this 
humble  dwelling  a  Descartes  may  utter  his  "  Cogito, 
ergo  sum"  or  a  Pascal  may  open  a  new  kingdom  of 
thought  to  the  wondering  world.  Here  greater  battles 
may  be  fought,  and  grander  victories  won,  than  any 
immortalised  in  history  ;  for  here  those  great  prin- 
ciples may  be  evolved  which  shall  afterwards  be  pro- 
claimed from  the  forum,  and  embodied  in  the  progress 
of  nations.  It  matters  little,  then,  that  Vinet  passed 
his  days  in  almost  unbroken  obscurity.  There  were, 
nevertheless,  marked  eras  in  his  intellectual  and  moral 


ALEXANDRE  VINET.  241 

life,  which  have  left  their  impress  upon  the  religious 
history  of  the  age. 

Vinet  was  not  cradled  in  luxury.  On  the  contrary, 
the  family  were  often  in  straitened  circumstances. 
His  father  belonged  to  the  petty  bourgeoisie  of 
French  Switzerland,  and  could  with  difficulty  provide 
bread  for  his  household.  He  was  a  man  of  the  old 
school,  hard-working  and  incapable  of  self-indulgence, 
concealing  a  warm  heart  beneath  a  somewhat  rigid 
and  rough  exterior.  Vinet  found  in  him  a  wise  coun- 
sellor, who  presented  life  to  him  under  a  rather  stern 
aspect,  but  who  always  exhibited  towards  him,  in  his 
own  way,  the  greatest  affection.  Like  the  father  of 
Schleiermacher,  the  great  founder  of  the  German 
theology  of  the  nineteenth  century,  the  elder  Vinet 
was  uneasy  at  the  first  signs  of  intellectual  indepen- 
dence in  his  son.  Accustomed  himself  to  adhere 
rigidly  to  rules,  he  could  not  understand  any  deviation 
in  religion  from  the  beaten  track.  The  tenderness 
of  Vinet's  mother  tempered  this  severity,  which  was 
doubtless,  on  the  whole,  salutary  in  its  effect,  for  -the 
best  school  of  liberty  is  the  stern  discipline  which 
teaches  us  to  govern  ourselves. 

After  a  thorough  course  of  literary  and  theological 
study  at  Lausanne,  Vinet  was  called  to  the  pro- 
fessorship of  the  French  language  at  Basle.  He  had 
long  shown  a  strong  interest  in  French  literature. 
It  is  said  that  at  seventeen  years  of  age  he  could  not 
read   the  "  Cid "  aloud    without   bursting  into   tears. 

17 


242  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

He  delighted  in  giving  a  poetical  form  to  his  im- 
pressions ;  they  flowed  at  first  in  light  and  easy 
strains,  like  the  amenities  of  youth,  then  in  more 
powerful  verses,  which  burst  spontaneously  from  a 
heart  deeply  exercised  with  the  mysteries  of  life. 
Vinet  was  never  a  poet  in  the  sense  of  one  who  could 
only  give  true  expressions  to  his  thoughts  in  the  form 
of  rhythm  ;  but  he  had,  nevertheless,  a  deeply  poetic 
soul.  Not  only  did  he  keenly  enjoy  the  masterpieces 
of  poetry,  but  he  had  recourse  to  poetic  forms  in  the 
supreme  moments  of  his  life.  The  deepest  sorrows  of 
his  heart  found  expression  in  verse  ;  and  whatever  these 
productions  may  lack  of  aesthetic  beauty,  they  bear  the 
unmistakable  impress  of  deep  and  genuine  feeling. 

Vinet  married  early,  and  the  union  was  one  of  rare 
congeniality  and  helpfulness.  His  home  was  early 
visited  with  domestic  affliction.  His  son  suffered  in 
a  way  which  painfully  separated  him  from  home  ties  ; 
his  daughter  was  cut  off  in  the  flower  of  her  youth  ; 
he  himself  was  the  victim  of  a  disease  which  rarely 
allowed  him  a  day's  respite.  Death  visited  his  home 
with  repeated  strokes.  Yet  all  these  trials  only 
wrung  from  his  wounded  heart  this  cry  of  sublime 
acquiescence,  uttered  at  the  grave  of  his  daughter  : 

"  Sous  ton  ciseau,  divin  sculpteur  de  l'ame, 
Que  mon  bonheur  vole  en  eclats  ! 

Mourir  c'est  naitre  ; 
D'un  nouvel  etre, 
C'est  jour  a  jour  se  revetir." 


ALEXANDRE  VINET.  243 

We  should  give  a  wrong  impression  if  we  led  the 
reader  to  suppose  that  Vinet  knew  and  understood 
only  the  sorrowful  side  of  life.  He  had  an  Intense 
appreciation  of  the  joys  of  friendship  and  affection  ,; 
he  had  an  enthusiasm  for  the  beautiful,  whether  in 
the  world  of  letters  or  in  the  sublime  and  tender 
forms  of  nature.  Still  the  prevailing  tone  of  his 
mind  was  one  of  sadness.  In  truth,  the  sufferings 
of  the  outward  life  were  slight  compared  with  the 
poignant  anguish  often  endured  in  the  struggle  with 
himself.  From  each  renewed  conflict  he  came  forth, 
indeed,  more  victorious,  his  heart  increasingly  weaned 
from  vanity  and  selfishness,  and  set  upon  the  service 
of  truth,  justice,  humanity,  of  every  good  cause  which 
could  commend  the  gospel  to  men.  But  he  took  too 
serious  a  view  of  life,  and  was  too  sincere  in  his  deal- 
ings with  himself,  not  to  be  more  saddened  by  his 
failures  than  gladdened  by  the  measure  of  success 
achieved.  Leading  himself  a  life  of  rare  purity  and 
nobleness,  he  was  ever  abased  in  the  dust,  because  of 
the  evil  he  saw  in  his  own  heart,  and  in  the  world 
around  him.  He  wept  tears,  now  of  repentance,  now 
of  compassion.  These  were  not  tears  wrung  from 
him  by  the  fear  of  punishment,  for  he  believed  firmly 
in  the  infinite  love  which  comes  to  pardon  and  restore 
all.  They  expressed  rather  his  unutterable  yearning 
after  perfection,  and  his  deep  compassion  for  all  the 
hungry  souls  around  him,  and  most  of  all  for  the 
souls  that  did  not  hunger,  but  were  satisfied  with  the 


244  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

ashes  of  a  low  and  miserable  life.  Firm,  too,  as  was 
his  faith,  it  had  not  been  accepted  on  slight  grounds. 
As  he  himself  tells  us,  he  reached  it  through  a  sea  of 
speculation,  often  having  to  contend  hard  for  the  faith 
with  those  "  insolent  doubts"  which  would  arise  in  his 
heart.  From  these  struggles  of  soul  and  spirit,  he 
came  forth  sore  wounded,  but  victorious,  to  use  the 
expression  of  one  of  his  honoured  brothers  in  arms — 
Adolphe  Monod. 

Protestantism,  like  Catholicism,  has  its  facile  ad- 
herents ;  but  we  do  not  find  upon  this  path  of  easy 
devotion  the  footprints  of  those  great  Christians,  whose 
souls  have  apprehended  the  true  ideal  of  the  Christian 
life,  and  who  refuse  to  be  comforted  because  of  the 
depth  of  human  woe.  These  bear  upon  their  hearts, 
not  only  their  own  sorrows,  but  the  burden  of  an 
unhappy  race  ;  and  from  the  days  of  St.  Paul  to  those 
of  Pascal  and  Vinet,  these  men  have  been  climbing 
the  hill  of  sorrow,  with  their  eyes  ever  fixed  upon  the 
cross  which  crowns  its  summit.  They  know  that  this 
is  the  symbol  of  the  great  victory ;  hence  their  joy. 
But  they  know  also  through  what  bitter  anguish  the 
victory  was  won  ;  hence  their  sympathetic  sorrow. 
Vinet  wrote  one  day  in  his  journal,  when  he  was  sad- 
dened by  the  discovery  of  a  base  deception  :  "  This  is 
evil ;  but  in  another  way  it  is  very  good.  It  is  a 
thorn  of  the  crown."  The  crown  was  on  his  brow,  but 
it  was  a  crown  of  thorns.  Vinet's  Christianity  was 
altogether  of  this  lofty  type. 


ALEXANDRE  VI NET.  245 

It  was  at  Basle,  in  the  year  1820,  that  he  passed 
through  the  decisive  crisis  of  his  spiritual  life.  The 
Protestant  Churches  of  the  Continent  began  at  that 
time  to  feel  the  reaction  of  what  was  called  in  Eng- 
land the  great  Revival.  M.  de  Remusat,  in  a  very 
able  article  on  Wesley,  written  with  all  his  character- 
istic clearness  of  insight  and  breadth  of  view,  brings 
out  the  significance  of  the  movement  which,  at  the 
close  of  the  eighteenth  century,  profoundly  stirred 
Great  Britain,  and  startled  it  out  of  the  state  of  reli- 
gious lethargy  and  formalism  into  which  it  had  sunk 
under  the  enervating  influence  of  the  age.  Wesley 
and  Whitfield  spoke  like  the  apostles  of  old — with 
tongues  of  fire.  Like  the  first  missionaries  of  the  new 
faith,  they  went  through  the  country  from  north  to 
south  and  from  east  to  west,  gathering  vast  multi- 
tudes by  the  force  and  charm  of  their  eloquence,  and 
setting  before  them  the  living  gospel  instead  of  the 
cold  and  colourless  deism  to  which  they  had  become 
accustomed.  These  two  extraordinary  men  as  truly 
made  the  England  of  the  nineteenth  century,  as  the 
Roundheads  made  that  of  the  seventeenth.  The  ter- 
rible ordeal  of  war  through  which  the  country  was 
passing  gave  point  and  appropriateness  to  the  stern 
message  of  the  preachers.  When  peace  came  the 
movement  spread  over  the  continent  of  Europe, 
where  Protestantism  had  assumed  too  much  the  type 
of  the  Savoyard  Vicar,  and  had  been  content  if  it 
found  in  the  pulpit  a  man  in  a  black  vestment,  and 


246  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

saying  what  was  expected  of  him.  All  this  was 
changed  when  the  apostles  of  English  Evangelicalism 
lifted  up  their  voice  in  France  and  Switzerland.  Un- 
happily they  cast  these  great  truths  into  too  narrow 
a  mould.  In  the  reaction  against  the  spirit  of  world- 
liness,  they  were  led  into  an  exaggerated  Puritanism, 
which  allowed  little  scope  for  the  higher  culture. 

Vinet  was  first  struck  with  the  asperities  of  this 
extreme  dogmatism,  which  presented  in  great  promi- 
nence the  most  sombre  features  of  Calvinism.  But 
when1  he  saw  the  adherents  of  the  religious  revival 
bravely  enduring  in  Switzerland  a  persecution  which 
was  as  odious  as  it  was  petty,  he  learnt  to  respect  them ; 
and  it  was  in  defending  them  that  he  first  became 
the  unflinching  advocate  of  liberty  of  conscience.  He 
soon  came  to  recognise  that  they  were  right  on  more 
than  one  point  ;  that  they  were  not  mistaken  in  pro- 
claiming the  necessity  of  a  moral  and  spiritual  re- 
generation, and  in  protesting  against  a  Christianity  of 
mere  routine,  which  was  satisfied  with  a  supernatu- 
ralism  devoid  of  mystery,,  and  which  made  mere 
virtue  the  substitute  for  holiness.  Vinet  received  the 
spiritual  impulse  which  he  needed  from  this  imperfect 
Methodism,  though  it  was  never  able  to  hold  his 
generous  spirit  captive  in  its  narrow  formulas.  He 
formed  his  own  belief,  and  always  remained  profoundly 
human,  while  holding  fast  the  essential  principles  of 
revealed  truth.  We  shall  see  that  he  acted  the  part  of  a 
true  reformer  in  the  lofty  sphere  of  religious  thought. 


ALEXANDRE  VINET.  247 

Vinet  devoted  the  best  years  of  his  early  life  to  the 
humble  office  of  teacher  of  French,  which  he  had  ac- 
cepted at  Basle.  He  was  as  conscientious  in  the 
fulfilment  of  this  duty  as  of  all  others  ;  hence  it  was 
during  these  years  he  acquired  that  extensive  literary 
erudition  which  made  him  afterwards  a  consummate 
critic.  To  this  period  of  his  career  we  owe  his 
"  Chrestomatie  " — the  best  work  of  its  kind,  not  only 
in  the  selection  of  pieces,  but  in  the  biographical  and 
literary  notices  which  precede  them,  and  still  more  in 
the  eloquent  and  exact  resume  of  French  literature 
which  Sainte-Beuve  regarded  as  above  all  praise. 
Vinet  was,  as  we  have  just  said,  mixed  up  at  this 
period,  in  those  struggles  for  religious  liberty  which 
were  inevitable  when  a  retrograde  legislation  was 
brought  into  collision  with  the  first  aggressive  move- 
ments of  the  new  religious  zeal.  The  articles  written 
by  Vinet  on  this  subject,  and  afterwards  collected  in 
a  volume,  are  still  as  pointed  and  powerful  as  ever,  for 
the  very  same  questions  which  are  discussed  in  them 
are  still  pressing  for  a  solution  from  the  democracy  of 
our  day.  This  is  especially  the  case  in  Switzerland, 
where  a  false  demagogy  seems  aiming  to  show  how  it 
could  be  the  worst  of  all  tyrannies.  It  was  at  Basle 
also  that  Vinet  wrote  his  "  Memoire  sur  la  liberte  des 
cultes,"  to  which  the  Society  of  Christian  Morals  at 
Paris  gave  the  prize,  at  the  warm  recommendation  of 
M.  Guizot.  In  this  work  Vinet  displays  the  maturity 
of  his  powers  in  the  complete  mastery  of  thought  and 


248  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

style.  It  is  a  full,  fervent,  high-toned  pleading  for 
liberty  of  conscience,  on  the  ground  of  respect  for  the 
human  soul  and  for  God,  who  alone  has  the  right  to 
command  in  matters  of  religion. 

After  the  Revolution  of  1830,  the  periodical  Le 
Semenr  was  started.  It  was  a  sort  of  Protestant 
Globe,  and  was  conducted  with  singular  ability  and 
firmness  by  M.  Henri  Lutteroth.  It  became  at  once 
the  organ  of  the  highest  liberal  and  Christian  culture 
of  French  Protestantism,  and  gave  a  fresh  impetus  to 
Vinet's  mental  development.  His  contributions  to  it 
were  constant,  and  of  the  most  various  order.  In  it 
he  published  his  very  able  literary  articles  on  all 
the  great  works  of  the  day  —  articles  which  placed 
him  in  the  first  rank  of  literary  critics.  In  it  he 
steadily  carried  on  his  campaign  in  favour  of  reli- 
gious liberty,  and  published  his  "  Etudes  Apolo- 
■  getiques,"  which  are  perhaps  the  most  able  of  all  his 
works.  He  also  often  preached  through  its  pages, 
and  it  thus  became  the  medium  of  circulating  his 
thoughtful  and  powerful  sermons  through  all  the 
Protestant  Churches  of  the  Old  and  the  New  World. 

Appointed  Professor  of  Literature  in  the  Academy 
of  Basle,  he  expanded  his  course  by  adding  to  it  a 
series  of  public  lectures  on  French  Moralists,  which 
remain  a  standard  work.  His  reputation  increased 
daily,  though  he  himself  would  do  nothing  to  court 
publicity,  and  steadily  refused  the  invitations  that 
constantly  came  to  him  from  all  parts  of  Switzerland 


ALEXANDRE  VINE  7.  249 

and  France.  The  reason  he  gave  for  these  refusals 
was  "  his  incapacity  for,  and  unworthiness  of  the  prof- 
fered honour." 

At  the  close  of  his  stay  in  Basle,  Vinet  had  become 
a  close  and  exact  thinker,  and  complete  master  of  the 
fine  and  subtle  harmonies  of  language.  Few  writers 
have  ever  shown  such  versatility  of  thought.  This 
appears,  not  only  in  his  expositions,  but  in  his  very 
turns  of  expression,  and  in  his  original  application  of 
metaphors  derived  from  nature,  art,  and  science.  His 
style  is  not,  of  course,  faultless :  it  is  sometimes  over- 
laden ;  the  lines  of  reasoning  are  lost  in  the  too 
ample  development  ;  the  plan  is  wanting  in  sym- 
metry ;  the  images  do  not  always  correspond.  In 
many  respects  Vinet  reminds  us  of  Clement  of  Alex- 
andria, not  only  in  his  breadth  of  view,  but  also  in 
his  manner,  at  once  erudite  and  brilliant,  of  express- 
ing his  ideas.  The  great  apologist  of  the  third  cen- 
tury called  his  writings  "  stromata,"  or  "  tapestries." 
This  was  a  true  description  of  his  rather  elaborate 
style,  in  which,  like  threads  of  many  colours  inter- 
woven in  one  close  fabric,  we  find  the  blended  results 
of  the  most  varied  culture.  I  know  no  writer  who,  in 
this  respect,  more  resembles  him  than  Vinet.  All 
this  brilliance  of  language  was  the  reflection  of  the 
ardent  soul  within.  His  writings  are  always  full  of 
feeling.  Indeed,  it  may  be  truly  said  that  the  moral 
tone  dominates  to  a  degree  very  rare  even  the  form 
in  which  his  thoughts  are  conveyed. 


250  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

His  motto,  whenever  he  took  pen  in  hand,  was  this  : 
"  Let  us  write  in  the  best  manner  possible."  The 
following  is  found  among  the  jottings  in  his  memo- 
randum book  :  "  Responsibility  of  a  writer,  even  when 
no  fame  attends  his  publications.  He  has  sown,  and 
that  which  he  has  sown  will  germinate  in  silence,  and, 
whether  he  sleep  or  wake,  will  become  a  principle, 
an  affection,  a  habit  of  mind  in  his  readers." 

In  1837  Vinet  was  called  to  Lausanne  as  Professor 
of  Practical  Theology,  a  branch  which  comprehends 
the  oratorical  art  as  applied  to  the  pulpit,  and  what 
may  be  called  pastoral  morality — not  easily  distin- 
guished from  simple  Christian  morality,  where  there 
is  no  recognition  of  a  narrow  clericalism.  It  was  not 
without  regret  that  he  quitted  the  town  where  his 
laborious  youth  had  been  passed  in  the  midst  of 
growing  sympathies,  and  where  he  had  the  advantage 
of  combining,  to  an  unusual  degree,  the  science  of 
Germany  with  the  culture  of  France.  He  returned 
to  his  native  place  at  a  time  very  favourable  for  his 
work.  The  political  quarrels  of  the  past  seemed  to 
have  ended  in  a  durable  amnesty.  Democracy  in 
Lausanne  was  becoming  established  on  a  sound 
liberal  basis,  under  a  just  Government,  which  was 
very  desirous  of  promoting  the  intellectual  develop- 
ment of  the  country. 

The  Academy  of  Lausanne  was  distinguished  for 
the  welcome  it  gave  to  illustrious  foreigners.  Mis- 
ckiewitz,  the  great  poet  of  partitioned  Poland,  held 


ALEXANDRE  VI NET.  251 

the  Latin  professorship.  Melegari,  an  exile  from  Parma 
(afterwards  a  senator  of  the  Italian  kingdom,  and  its 
minister  at  Berne),  filled  the  chair  of  Political  Economy 
with  an  erudition  equal  to  his  popularity.  Lastly, 
Sainte-Beuve  had  accepted  the  invitation  to  give 
there,  in  a  course  of  public  lectures,  the  first  outlines 
of  his  "  History  of  Port  Royal."  For  the  rest,  Lau- 
sanne could  supply  its  own  requirements.  M.  Mon- 
nard,  formerly  a  contributor  to  the  Globe,  and  the 
intimate  friend  of  Thiers  and  Mignet,  gave  instruction 
in  French  literature.  M.  Juste  Ollivier,  the  national 
poet,  was  Professor  of  History.  M.  Charles  Secretan, 
one  of  the  most  brilliant  representatives  of  the  younger 
generation,  which  could  count  in  its  ranks  such  poets 
as  Frederic  Monneron,  and  such  able  and  eloquent 
writers  as  Adolphe  Lebre  (first  known  to  fame  through 
his  writings  in  the  Revue  des  Deux  Mondes),  was 
about  to  commence  the  philosophical  course,  in  which 
he  endeavoured  to  show  the  harmony  between  the 
gospel  and  free  speculation,  and  supplemented 
Vinet's  work  in  the  track  opened  by  Schilling. .  The 
theological  faculty  at  that  time  commanded  the  ser- 
vices of  M.  Herzog,  who  afterwards  published  his 
great  theological  Encyclopaedia  ;  and  of  M.  Samuel 
Chappuis,  one  of  the  most  eminent  of  living  Protes- 
tants, whose  noble  and  cultivated  intellect  was  always 
devoted  to  the  service  of  what  he  regarded  as  the 
cause  of  truth.  Unfortunately  he  had  a  rooted  aver- 
sion  to   appearing  in  print,  and  thus  his  invaluable 


252  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

labours  have  been  preserved  to  us  only  through  the 
memoranda  of  his  students. 

Lausanne  was  for  many  years  an  intellectual  centre 
not  inferior  to  any  of  the  German  Universities.  It 
diffused  an  atmosphere  of  liberty,  and  of  faith  broad 
and  human,  in  the  best  sense  of  the  word.  The 
society  of  Lausanne  had  long  enjoyed  a  reputation 
for  intellectual  taste  ;  in  the  eighteenth  century  it 
was  characterised  by  a  mental  frivolity,  largely  to  be 
traced,  no  doubt,  to  Voltaire's  sojourn  there.  At  the 
commencement  of  this  century  Mesdames  de  Char- 
riere  and  de  Montolieu  continued  this  tradition  of 
brilliant  and  racy  conversation,  while  Gibbon  raised 
the  tone  by  his  solid  erudition.  Coppet,  also,  was 
not  far  off,  and  Lausanne  would  catch  at  least  the 
echo  of  the  Decameron  of  French  esprit,  presided 
over  by  the  illustrious  exile,  Madame  de  Stael. 
The  society  of  Lausanne,  no  doubt,  underwent  a 
considerable  change  under  the  influence  of  the  re- 
ligious revival,  but  it  still  maintained  its  literary 
reputation.  The  greater  seriousness  of  its  tone  took 
nothing  from  its  breadth,  and  the  salons  in .  which 
Vinet  and  Sainte-Beuve  appeared  had  no  cause  to 
envy  the  brilliant  reunions  of  Paris.  If  conversation 
ranged  over  a  narrower  area,  it  was  more  solidly 
thoughtful,  and  great  intellectual  and  moral  questions 
were  discussed  under  all  their  aspects,  with  an  ex- 
haustive thoroughness  which  gave  a  peculiar  value  to 
the  results   reached.      These  were  years  of  extraor- 


ALEXANDRE  VINET.  253 

dinary  growth  and  fruitfulness  in  the  spiritual  history 
of  Switzerland,  and  the  memory  of  them  lingers  like 
a  vision  of  sunset  Alps  towering  above  the  blue 
Geneva  lake. 

The  most  abiding  influence  was  that  of  Vinet,  who 
was  compelled  by  the  prolonged  absence  of  M.  Mon- 
nard  to  add  a  course  of  literature  to  his  theological 
lectures.  After  his  death  most  of  his  lectures  were 
printed.  Among  those  most  worthy  of  note  we  may 
mention  his  history  of  the  Christian  pulpit,  Catholic 
and  Protestant ;  his  lectures  on  the  rules  of  preach- 
ing— a  course  of  sacred  oratory,  teaching  how  to 
dispense  with  rhetoric  in  the  vulgar  sense  of  the 
word  ;  and  his  lectures  on  the  gospel  ministry.  In 
addition  to  these  we  have  his  entire  literary  course  ; 
his  essay  on  Pascal,  his  studies  of  the  seventeenth  and 
eighteenth  centuries,  and  of  the  great  French  writers 
of  the  day,  beginning  with  Madame  de  Stael  and 
Chateaubriand,  to  whom  he  devoted  an  entire  course. 

I  have  listened  to  many  great  masters,  but  I  never 
heard  any  who  surpassed  Vinet.  Sainte-Beuve  has 
paid  a  noble  tribute  to  his  teaching,  and  to  that  purely 
moral  beauty  which  impressed  him  so  vividly  after 
the  false  glitter  and  glamour  of  pagan  and  papal 
Rome.  I  shall  never  forget  how  I  felt  on  hearing 
him  for  the  first  time.  I  intended  only  to  devote  a 
few  months  to  his  course  of  instructions  ;  but  when  I 
had  once  entered  upon  it,  in  1842,  I  felt  myself  fixed 
there  for  the  whole  of  my  student  years.     Such  an 


254  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

opportunity  does  not  come  twice  in  a  lifetime.  I 
never  knew  any  teaching  so  suggestive  as  Vinet's, 
any  which  so  surely  communicated  to  heart  and 
mind  the  living  spark,  without  which  all  mere  learning 
is  comparatively  vain.  To  inspire  is  more  than  to 
instruct.  The  teaching  which  imparts,  not  only  in- 
creased knowledge,  but  the  key  of  science,  and  above 
all  the  love  of  truth,  and  the  method  of  laying  hold  of 
it,  is  the  true  training  of  the  mind. 

When  Vinet  entered  the  lecture-room  he  generally 
looked  languid  and  exhausted.  His  great  height 
gave  him  a  sort  of  awkwardness,  and  his  features, 
sharply  cut  but  not  classic,  gave  no  indication  of  the 
treasure  within.  But  after  a  few  minutes  all  was 
changed,  and  there  was  singular  aptness  in  Madame 
de  Montolieu's  shrewd  remark,  after  meeting  him  one 
day,  while  he  was  quite  young,  at  the  house  of  another 
professor.  She  asked,  "  Who  is  that  ugly  man  who 
becomes  beautiful  when  he  speaks?"  His  thoughts 
seemed  to  play  over  his  face  like  a  long  pent-up  fire, 
kindling  it  to  light  and  warmth.  In  his  deep  and 
sonorous  voice  he  poured  forth  a  constant  stream  of 
original  ideas,  in  language  which  was  the  luminous 
reflection  of  his  thoughts.  He  threw  his  whole  soul 
into  his  teaching.  No  student  of  his  ever  came  out 
of  the  lecture-room  with  heart  unmoved.  All  carried 
away,  not  simply  the  recollection  of  eloquent  words, 
but  a  new  impulse  in  the  life.  His  last  course,  which 
he  was  unable  to  finish,  was  on   the  practical  philo- 


ALEXANDRE  VINET  25$ 

sophy  of  Christianity.  It  has  come  down  to  us  only 
in  a  fragmentary  form.  Had  it  been  completed  it 
would  have  been  truly  his  "  Genie  du  Christianisme." 
All  who  heard  it  are  unanimous  in  saying  that  his 
genius  was  never  more  powerfully  displayed.  His 
death  prevented  its  being  prepared  for  publication, 
and  thus  we  have  lost  a  book  of  which  our  age  might 
have  been  justly  proud,  and  in  which  the  author  was 
prepared,  as  it  were,  to  bind  his  sheaves. 

The  relations  of  Vinet  with  Sainte-Beuve,  which 
commenced  at  Lausanne,  were  from  the  first  those 
of  intimate  friendship.  The  great  critic  received 
from  Vinet  an  impression  which  never  wore  away. 
It  is  calumny  to  say  that  Sainte-Beuve  only  watched 
with  an  amused  curiosity  the  travail  of  this  great 
soul,  amid  severely  simple  surroundings  which  re- 
minded him  of  Port  Royal.  That  such  a  representa- 
tion does  him  injustice  is  evident  from  the  letter 
which  Sainte-Beuve  wrote  to  Vinet  after  his  return 
to  Paris. 

"  I  imagine,"  he  writes,  "  that  one  of  the  great 
attractions  of  Paris,  and  indeed  the  only  one  which 
makes  it  worth  while  to  live  here,  is  that  here  you 
are  in  a  good  position  for  watching  the  comedy.  But 
the  worst  of  it  is  this  comedy  itself,  in  which  you 
have  always  to  look  on,  never  to  act,  and  have  to 
accept  this  low  world  as  a  show,  not  as  a  field  of 
labour.  All  this  is  so  different  at  Lausanne.  That  is 
what  moved  my  envy  in  a  certain  visit  in  the  shade 


256  CONTEMPORAR  Y  POR  TRAITS. 

of  the  cathedral,  where  I  saw  a  whole  life  of  study, 
of  sacrifice,  of  humble  unremitting  activity.  Life 
here  is  all   dissipation  ;    men  do  a  thousand   things, 

and    never   the   one   important   thing Your 

letter  touched  and  gratified  me  ;  but  I  have  never 
any  words  in  which  to  acknowledge  your  praises,  feel- 
ing myself  so  unworthy  of  them,  for  I  have  sunk  into 
a  state  of  purely  intellectual  criticism,  and  am  a  sor- 
rowful witness  of  the  death  of  my  own  heart.  I  judge 
myself,  and  remain  calm,  cold,  indifferent.  I  am  a 
dead  man,  and  can  look  upon  myself  as  dead  without 
being  moved.     Alas  !  there  are  causes  for  this,  deep 

and  of  long  standing But  here  I  am  speaking 

to  you  like  a  father  confessor.  Reason  sheds  cold 
rays  over  this  cemetery  like  a  dead  moon  !  " 

The  confession  is  significant.  Sainte-Beuve  is  in 
this  letter  a  far  less  flippant  man  than  he  chose  to 
appear  afterwards. 

The  letter  shows  also  that  Vinet  was  not  afraid  to 
go  below  the  surface  in  his  relations  even  with  such 
men  as  Sainte-Beuve ;  he  went  straight  to  the  soul. 
M.  Rambert  gives  us  a  short  correspondence  between 
Vinet  and  Chateaubriand,  in  which  the  great  ennuye 
poet  who,  to  use  his  own  expression,  "  yawned  out  his 
life,"  tells  the  story  of  his  disenchantment  with  a  heart- 
aching  bitterness.  When  a  man  has  become  sceptical 
to  such  a  degree,  in  relation  to  all  things  human  and 
earthly,  he  is  not  likely  to  have  much  faith  in  eternal 
things  ;  for  faith  in  the  higher  would  fling  its  reflec- 


■      ALEXANDRE  VINET.  257 

tion  over  the  lower  world.  It  is  beautiful  to  see  with 
what  a  delicate  touch  Vinet  endeavours  to  staunch 
the  wounds  of  the  old  Rene.  This  sort  of  solicitude 
seems  strange,  and  perhaps  a  little  indiscreet,  to  polite 
society.  With  Vinet  it  is  inseparable  from  the  strong 
and  pitiful  love  of  mankind  which  is  the  animating 
principle  of  his  life.  He  thought,  moreover,  that  it 
was  degrading  to  our  relations  with  one  another  to 
avoid  touching  on  the  things  that  concern  us'  most 
deeply — the  great  questions  of  the  soul — and  to  treat 
Christianity  as  if  it  were  a  dead  friend  whose  name  is 
not  to  be  mentioned  for  fear  of  re-awakening  bitter 
regrets.  This  feeling  he  expresses  very  fully  in  his 
book,  "  La  Manifestation  des  Convictions  Religieuses," 
which,  like  his  "  Memoire  sur  la  Liberte  des  Cultes,". 
was  written  in  connection  with  a  meeting  of  the  So- 
ciety of  Christian  Morals.  He  begins  by  maintaining 
that  it  is  the  duty  of  every  sincere  and  thoughtful  man 
to  show  his  convictions,  and  that  for  the  honour  of  the 
truth.  He  then  describes,  in  some  of  the  finest  pages 
he  ever  wrote,  the  sufferings  through  which  the  truth 
has  been  triumphantly  vindicated,  and  concludes  that 
every  hindrance  to  its  free  progress  ought  to  be 
removed.  He  is  thus  led,  in  the  second  part  of  his 
book,  to  develop  his  favourite  theory  of  the  sepa- 
ration of  Church  and  State.  The  same  train  of 
thought  runs  through  his  work  on  the  origin  of 
Socialism,  which,  in  his  view,  has  its  root  in  the  un- 
due subordination   of  the   individual  to  the  State— 

18 


258  CONTEMPORAR  V  POR  TRAITS. 

an  error   never   more  fatal   than    in   the   domain  of 
religion. 

The  events  which  were  transpiring  at  the  time  in 
the  Canton  de  Vaud  were  well  calculated  to  strengthen 
his  convictions.  The  Revolution  of  1845,  though  ac- 
complished without  bloodshed,  was  none  the  less 
lamentable  in  its  results.  It  raised  to  power  a  clamor- 
ous and  despotic  demagogy  which  laid  forcible  hands 
upon  the  Academy  and  the  Church,  in  the  attempt  to 
make  the  Church  the  victim  of  its  caprices.  It  en- 
countered a  determined  resistance,  which  does  honour 
to  the  Christian  conscience.  A  considerable  portion 
of  the  clergy  broke  with  a  government  which  sought 
to  make  use  of  it  merely  as  an  electoral  agent.  A 
free  and  self-supporting  Church  was  founded  in  a  few 
days.  It  encountered  at  first  a  sharp  persecution. 
Religious  liberty  was  grossly  violated.  Vinet,  who 
had  been  obliged  to  resign  his  office  as  Professor  of 
Theology,  and  who  had  been  soon  after  deprived  of  his 
chair  of  Literature,  vigorously  took  up  the  defence  of 
the  new  Church,  which  he  had  helped  to  organise. 
He  gave  several  lectures  in  the  theological  faculty, 
which  had  just  been  founded  outside  the  Establish- 
ment, but  sickness  soon  laid  him  on  a  bed  of  pain 
from  which  he  rose  no  more.  He  never  ceased  to 
write  while  life  remained,  and  his  last  breath  was 
spent  in  the  cause  of  that  religious  and  theological 
liberty  for  which  he  had  so  strenuously  laboured.  He 
died  in  the  month  of  May,  1847,  before  he  had  reached 


ALEXANDRE  VINET.  259 

his  fiftieth  year.  The  sorrow  which  his  death  spread 
throughout  Switzerland  and  in  all  the  Protestant 
Churches  was  too  deep  for  words.  His  coffin,  covered 
with  flowers,  was  borne  by  his  weeping  disciples  to 
the  cemetery  of  Clarens.  There  he  sleeps  in  the  midst 
of  that  natural  beauty  which  he  so  dearly  loved.  The 
spot  is  marked  by  a  modest  tombstone,  on  which  are 
engraved  the  words  :  "  They  that  turn  many  to  right- 
eousness shall  shine  as  the  stars  for  ever  and  ever." 

The  great  consolation  to  his  friends  was  that, 
though  his  voice  would  be  heard  no  more,  his  thoughts 
would  live  on  with  an  ever-widening  influence  for 
good. 

It  remains  for  us  now  to  follow  out  the  various  lines 
of  thought  which  he  illuminated  with  his  powerful 
genius. 

*  Let  me  preface  the  review  of  the  general  tendency 
and  leading  characteristics  of  Vinet's  teaching  with  a 
personal  reminiscence.  A  few  months  before  his 
death  I  had  an  interview  with  him  which  I  shall 
never  forget.  I  had  heard  him  in  the  morning 
deliver  one  of  his  most  impressive  sermons  in  a  lower 
room  of  the  Castle  of  Chatelard,  where  the  worship  of 
the  Free  Church  was  held  under  the  pressure  of  the 
persecution  raised  against  it.  The  reformed  worship 
became  more  austerely  simple  than  ever,  in  this  its 
enforced  banishment  from  its  regular  places  of  wor- 
ship. On  this  occasion  there  was  neither  pulpit  nor 
organ,  but  the  preacher  was  in  his  very  happiest  vein. 


260  C0N7EMP0RAR  Y  POR  TRA1 TS. 

There  was  a  wealth  of  thought  in  the  sermon  worthy 
of  Pascal  himself,  and  an  entire  absence  of  the  rhetori- 
cal, though  the  fire  within  would  now  and  then  reveal 
itself  in   flashes  of  eloquence.     The  subject  was  the 
sublime  friendship  which  God  seeks  with  the  human 
soul,  in  which  He  thus  honourably  recognises  His  own 
image  and  the  expression  of  His  glory.     As  I  was 
walking  with  Vinet  the  same  evening  to  Chatelard, 
through  the  woods  of  Clarens,  then  pierced  by  shafts 
of  quiet  moonlight,  he  resumed  the  train  of  thought 
which  had  filled  his  mind  in  the  morning.     He  dwelt 
with  peculiar  emphasis  on  the  greatness  which  Christi- 
anity confers  on  human  nature,  and  on  that  sort  of 
baseness   which  impels  man    to  reject  this  glory  of 
humanity  by  which  he  becomes  a  partaker  of  the  divine 
life.     As  one  of  the  fathers  has  well  said  :  "  Christ 
became   man   to  accustom  us  to  become  like   God." 
This  last  conversation  with   my  revered   master  has 
always   lived    in   my   memory   as   the   most   perfect 
expression  of  his  inner  life.     The  thought  contained 
in  the  words  just  quoted  ran   as  a  connecting  link, 
not  only  through  all  his  teaching,  both  as  a  preacher 
and  an  apologist,  but   through  all  his  labours  as   a 
literary  critic  and  a  liberal  journalist,  giving  singular 
power  and  unity  to  his  whole  work.      Vinet  accepted 
it  as  a  fundamental  principle  that  the  human  soul  is 
veritably  the  offspring  of  God,  and  bears  His  image 
even  in  its  fallen  and  degraded  condition  ;  while  in 
Christianity,  so  far  from  being  absorbed  and  lost  in 


ALEXANDRE  VINET.  261 

the  infinite,  it  is  restored  to  its  true  self.  The  super- 
natural in  the  gospel,  thus  regarded,  is  the  restoration 
of  the  truly  natural,  freed  from  all  that  has  polluted 
and  falsified  it.  A  man  who  has  not  experienced  this 
renovating  influence  is  like  the  shipwrecked  mariner, 
whom  Plato  describes  so  vividly,  covered  with  slime 
and  crawling  sea  foam.  Christianity  frees  him  from 
all  this  defilement.  The  Christian  alone  is  the  com- 
plete man. 

This  is  a  doctrine  widely  different  from  the 
splendida  vitia  of  St.  Augustine,  from  his  systematic 
disparagement  of  human  nature  apart  from  faith.  In 
Vinet's  view,  even  fallen  man  is  a  being  of  a  noble 
race.  "  Upon  the  heights  of  human  nature,"  he  says, 
in  the  introductory  lecture  to  the  practical  philosophy 
of  Christianity,  "  we  find  the  ruins  of  an  altar."  Con- 
science bears  witness  to  the  divine  presence  in  a  man  ; 
this  is  the  source  at  once  of  his  greatness  and  of  his 
misery.  Between  this  innate  sense  of  the  divine  and 
Christ,  there  is  a  pre-established  harmony.  "  Con- 
science," says  Vinet,  "  is  only  the  abiding  and  inefface- 
able impress  of  a  powerful  hand,  which  having  once 
held  us  has  now  let  us  go — or  rather,  out  of  which  an 
enemy's  power  has  dragged  us.  The  hand  is  gone  ; 
the  mark  of  its  pressure  remains."  The  human  soul 
bears  in  its  secret  depths  an  inscription  written,  as  it 
were,  in  that  invisible  ink  which  only  the  fire  reveals. 
The  gospel  is  the  fire,  and  by  its  light  we  read  the 
divine  characters  traced  on  our  own  souls.     Vinet  has 


262  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRA ITS. 

embodied  the  same  idea,  which  is  the  key  to  his  whole 
religious  teaching,  in  the  following  striking  image : 

"We  call  to  mind,"  he  says,  "the  usages  of  ancient  hospi- 
tality. Before  parting  from  a  stranger,  the  father  of  the  family 
was  wont  to  break  a  clay  seal,  on  which  certain  characters  were 
impressed,  and  giving  one  half  to  his  guest,  he  kept  the  other 
himself.  After  the  lapse  of  years,  these  two  fragments  being 
brought  together  again  would  recognise  each  other,  so  to  speak, 
and  would  be  a  medium  of  recognition  between  the  two  men 
who  held  them,  and  by  the  evidence  they  bore  to  the  relations 
of  former  days,  would  become  the  basis  of  new  ones.  Thus  is 
it  in  the  book  of  our  soul:  the  lines  there  begun  find  their 
divine  complement ;  thus  our  soul  does  not,  properly  speaking, 
discover  the  truth,  but  may  be  rather  said  to  recognise  it.  The 
gospel  is  believed  when  it  has  ceased  to  be  to  us  an  external, 
and  has  become  an  internal  truth,  when  it  has  become  a  fact 
in  our  consciousness.  Christianity  is  conscience  raised  to  its 
highest  exercise." 

Upon  this  purely  moral  basis  Vinet  constructs  the 
edifice  of  theology.  So  far  from  explaining  away  the 
supernatural  to  a  mere  rationalistic  idealism,  he  shows 
how  truly  it  is  in  harmony  with  the  deep  instincts  of 
the  soul.  The  divine  humanity  of  Christ,  and  His 
voluntary  sacrifice  of  Himself,  are  represented  as  the 
supreme  satisfaction  of  the  demands  of  conscience, 
which  craves  to  find  itself  once  more  perfectly  united 
to  God,  through  the  redeeming  sacrifice. 

Vinet's  conception  of  religion  was  thus  altogether 
distinct  from  a  dry  scholasticism,  in  which  a  closely- 
linked  chain  of  doctrines  fetters  the  mind  without 
influencing  the  heart.  Christianity  is  not  essentially 
either  a  formulary  or  a  code.     It  is  a  grand  fact,  or 


ALEXANDRE  VINET.  263 

to  speak  more  truly,  it  is  a  living  person,  truth  incar- 
nate. Christ,  when  He  came  to  take  His  place 
among  men,  came  to  His  own.  It  was  vain  to  shut 
the  door  against  Him  ;  He  is  at  home  in  the  human 
heart,  because  it  was  made  for  Him.  When  it  comes 
to  itself  it  recognises  this,  and  welcomes  the  truth  of 
God  which  stoops  to  dwell  with  him,  as  Adam  wel- 
comed Eve,  saying  :  "  This  is  now  bone  of  my  bone 
and  flesh  of  my  flesh." 

We  can  well  understand  that  in  a  system  like  this, 
doctrine  and  morality  are  inseparable,  even  as  the 
two  meet  together  in  the  person  of  Christ  and  in  the 
cross  of  Calvary.  The  greatest,  the  most  amazing 
of  all  doctrines  is  that  doctrine  of  the  cross,  which 
reconciles  earth  and  heaven ;  and  the  highest  morality 
is  that  very  act  of  redemption  which  is  the  supreme 
sacrifice.  Faith  accepts  both  the  doctrine  and  the 
morality.  The  Christian  soul  believes  in  Christ  by 
uniting  itself  to  Him,  and  learning  from  Him  the 
secret  of  self-devotion.  Thus  that  great  controversy 
of  faith  and  works,  which  has  so  sharply  divided 
Christendom,  is  solved  by  being  brought  before  a 
higher  tribunal,  where  the  two  parties  so  long  at 
enmity  are  reconciled.  Faith  appropriates  the  whole 
Christ  by  a  moral  act  which  engages  all  the  energies 
of  the  soul,  and  renders  it  more  and  more  conformed 
to  His  image,  which  stands  forth  radiant  with  the 
light  of  heaven  against  the  dark  background  of  the 
cross.      It  was  in  bringing  out  this  aspect  of  the  truth 


264  CONTEMPORAR  Y  POR  TRAITS. 

that  Vinet  accomplished  his  most  important  work  as 
a  Reformer  of  the  faith.  He  did  much  to  render  it 
less  narrow  and  more  human,  while  he  never  fell  into 
the  error  of  confounding  it  with  a  rationalistic  philo- 
sophy. No  one  was  ever  more  deeply  conscious  of 
the  wounds  of  humanity,  and  no  one  ever  more  faith- 
fully interpreted  the  cry  of  the  soul  after  the  sovereign 
and  divine  remedy.  He  carried  on  and  extended  the 
work  of  Pascal,  whose  so-called  scepticism  was  in 
reality  only  the  passionate  avowal  of  the  insufficiency 
of  a  purely  intellectual  and  doctrinal  religion,  or  of  a 
rigidly  Cartesian  philosophy. 

Having  thus  laid  down  the  premises  of  the  great 
Christian  thinker,  it  will  be  easy  to  deduce  from  them 
the  broad  and  consistent  liberalism  which  character- 
ised all  his  writings. 

Vinet  had  first  of  all  a  firm  belief  in  moral  liberty 
in  its  highest  application,  I  mean  in  the  relations  of 
man  to  God.  The  negation  of  liberty  always  seemed 
to  him  emphatically  the  error.  He  was  thus  led  to 
modify  considerably  the  implacable  idea  of  the  Divine 
sovereignty  to  which  such  prominence  is  given  in 
Calvinism,  and  from  which,  with  an  apparent  in- 
consistency, it  has  deduced  the  doctrine  of  civil 
and  religious  liberty.  The  inconsistency  is  only  on 
the  surface,  however,  for  the  very  doctrine  which 
humbles  man  before  the  supreme  majesty  of  God,  vin- 
dicates his  dignity  in  relation  to  all  inferior  powers, 
and    especially    to    the    hierarchy.     The   Calvinistic 


ALEXANDRE  VI NET.  265 

dogma  of  predestination  was,  perhaps  naturally, 
evolved  in  the  reaction  of  the  sixteenth  century, 
and  adopted  as  a  controversial  weapon,  but  it  is, 
nevertheless,  a  dangerous  exaggeration  which  has  too 
long  been  a  clog  on  the  progress  of  the  Reformation. 
It  is  well  for  us  to  realise  that  these  questions,  which 
seem  to  deal  with  purely  abstract  matters,  have  their 
counterpart  in  history,  and  that,  in  fact,  they  have  to 
a  great  extent  shaped  it.  Looking  back  to  Luther's 
first  protests,  we  should  be  ready  to  say,  "A  mere 
monkish  quarrel."  But  this  monkish  quarrel  inaugu- 
rated the  greatest  and  most  formidable  schism  in 
Europe. 

"  Only  a  theological  dispute,"  some  may  be  ready 
to  say,  referring  to  the  discussions  on  grace  and  free- 
will. And  yet  we  have  but  to  read  the  history  of 
Holland  and  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  peoples,  or  "  Les 
Provinciales"  of  Pascal,  in  order  to  see  how  import- 
ant has  been  the  bearing  of  these  problems  on  the 
history  of  the  modern  world.  Vinet,  in  conjunction 
with  some  of  the  most  eminent  divines  of  Germany, 
proclaimed  that  great  reconciliation  between  human 
liberty  and  Divine  sovereignty,  which  opens  a  new 
career  to  the  Reformation.  He  used  this  happy 
phrase  to  convey  his  meaning :  "  Grace  is  a  divine 
eloquence,  which  carries  man's  free-will  captive  by 
persuasion." 

Principles    like    these    strike    at    the    root    of    all 
external  authority  in   matters  of  religion.     It  is  very 


266  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

evident  that  if  man  has  in  his  conscience  a  sufficient 
criterion  of  truth,  if  he  is  by  his  very  nature  in 
harmony  with  it,  truth  cannot  be  forced  upon  him 
under  any  pretext,  by  a  power  outside  himself. 
What  necessity  can  there  be  for  constraint,  where 
there  is  already  affinity  and  latent  sympathy  ?  Un- 
doubtedly the  conscience  is  often  dulled  by  evil 
passions  ;  it  needs  to  have  these  hindrances  removed, 
and  to  be  itself  aroused  from  its  stupor,  but  this  is  a 
moral  act.  Hence  the  intervention  of  the  will  in  the 
formation  of  the  belief,  not  to  enforce  the  blind 
acceptance  of  that  which  the  intellect  repudiates,  not 
to  annul  or  suspend  the  operation  of  the  rational 
faculties,  but  to  raise  man  above  all  that  would  lead 
him  into  exile,  all  that  would  hinder  the  pursuit  of 
his  true  ideal,  and  would  prevent  his  recognising 
the  supreme  embodiment  of  good  presented  in 
the  gospel. 

Vinet  was  thus  led  to  sap  the  very  foundations  of 
that  system  of  external  authority,  which  celebrated  not 
long  ago  its  most  decisive  and  dangerous  victory.  It 
must  not  be  supposed  that  he  would  leave  Christian 
thought  to  drift  without  an  anchor  or  a  helm.  On 
the  contrary,  the  authority  for  which  he  pleads  is  all 
the  more  powerful  because  it  is  voluntarily  accepted. 
The  magnetic  needle  does  not  need  to  be  turned  to 
the  pole  by  force,  it  tends  towards  it  by  a  necessity  of 
its  nature,  and  thus  becomes  the  mariner's  guide.  So 
it  is  with  the  soul ;  it  has  a  tendency  towards  the  pole 


ALEXANDRE  VINET.  267 

of  truth,  all  the  more  sure  because  it  is  spontaneous, 
and  a  tendency,  which  once  recognised,  it  feels  itself 
bound  religiously  to  obey.  It  is  not  true,  then,  to  say 
that  it  is  left  to  drift  over  the  wide  ocean  of  thought. 
Conscience  is  its  compass ;  and  truth  accepted,  its  polar 
star.  Vinet  gives  the  fullest  and  most  correct  state- 
ment of  his  views  on  the  false  authority,  as  opposed 
to  the  true,  in  his  work  on  Pascal. 

He  does  not  repudiate  this  false  authority  under 
one  form  only  ;  he  denounces  it  as  unsparingly  in 
his  own  communion  as  elsewhere.  He  is  as  im- 
patient of  the  yoke  of  an  intolerant  orthodoxy,  as  of 
that  of  the  hierarchy.  He  would  have  the  Christian 
thinker  free  himself  from  all  merely  human  tradition, 
and  form  his  own  faith  from  immediate  contact  with 
the  truth  at  its  very  source.  The  honest  seeker  will 
not  find  the  truth  embodied  in  the  form  of  a  syste- 
matic creed  even  in  the  Bible  itself,  which  speaks  with 
supreme  authority  on  matters  of  faith.  It  was  not 
the  purpose  of  God  to  spare  man  the  wholesome  effort 
of  seeking  for  and  eliciting  the  truth  for  himself. 
This  conception  of  religious  truth  and  of  the  method 
of  its  attainment,  altogether  excludes  those  arbitrary 
solutions,  and  that  imperious  insistance  upon  certain 
formulas  of  faith,  which  would  crush  all  opposition,  as 
resistance  to  lawful  authority  to  be  summarily  dealt 
with.  Such  denunciations  may  become  a  Bossuet,  as 
the  proud  representative  of  a  power,  the  sacred  titles 
of  which  he  deems  none  can  dispute.     The  Christian 


268  CONTEMPORAR  Y  POR TRAITS. 

apology,  in  this  view  of  it,  is  the  armed  guard  of  the 
sanctuary,  the  office  of  which  is  to  stamp  out  all  re- 
bellion. Doubt  is,  on  this  theory,  a  refractory  subject, 
to  be  curbed  by  authority,  not  to  be  convinced  by 
reason.  It  needs  to  be  rebuked  from  the  pulpit,  in 
such  tones  as  a  master  might  use  to  an  intractable 
scholar.  This  proud  assumption  of  authority  runs 
through  all  the  lofty  eloquence  of  the  French  pulpit 
in  the  seventeenth  century,  which  achieved  at  that  time 
some  of  its  most  magnificent  effects. 

Vinet's  teaching  is  in  striking  contrast  to  all  this.  He 
is  a  brother,  stretching  out  a  hand  to  his  brethren  in 
distress.  Himself,  so  lately  battling  with  the  same 
stormy  winds,  he  is  full  of  sympathy  with  his  strug- 
gling brethren,  and  longs  to  lead  them  into  the  port 
of  peace.  Is  he  not,  indeed,  still  a  seeker  after  truth, 
like  themselves  ?  for  who  can  boast  that  he  has  at- 
tained to  absolute  truth,  unless  he  be  under  the  same 
illusion  as  the  child  who  deems  that  he  can  grasp  the 
ocean  in  the  hollow  of  his  hand  ?  In  the  introduction 
to  the  first  volume  of  his  sermons,  Vinet  thus  explains 
his  position  :  "  As  one  conscious  of  his  own  weak- 
ness, I  address  myself  to  the  weak.  I  have  thought 
that  those,  who  are  still  in  the  infancy  of  their  faith, 
want  some  one  who,  placing  himself  at  their  stand- 
point, should  speak  to  them  less  as  a  preacher  than  as 
a  man  who  is  himself  but  a  few  steps  in  advance  of 
them,  and  who  is  anxious  to  use  for  their  benefit  the 
slight  advantage  this  may  give  him." 


ALEXANDRE   VI NET.  269 

To  us  it  seems  that,  in  an  age  like  ours,  this  is  the 
safest  and  most  effective  method  of  teaching.  We 
are   reminded  of  Corneille's  beautiful  line — 

Desarme  d^clairs  ta  divine  eloquence. 

The  lightning  dazzles  rather  than  enlightens. 
No  pomp  of  sacerdotalism  carries  half  so  much  weight 
as  the  frankly  human  utterance  of  an  honest  and 
earnest  heart.  Do  we  not  learn  this  lesson  from  the 
life  of  the  Great  Master,  who  left  the  seat  of  Moses  in 
the  temple  to  the  scribes  and  Pharisees,  while  He 
taught  by  the  well  of  Sychem,  in  the  streets  of  Galilean 
villages,  or  from  the  deck  of  the  fishermen's  boat  ? 

Vinet's  breadth  of  view  gave  him  a  noble  vantage- 
ground  as  a  literary  critic.  He  looked  upon  literature 
as  the  most  genuine  expression,  not  only  of  social 
conditions,  but  of  the  human  heart.  The  secret  of  the 
power  of  literature  is,  that  it  embodies  in  a  tangible 
form,  that  which  is  essentially  the  mind  of  the  age. 
It  is  the  revelation,  all  the  more  reliable  because  it  is 
often  unwitting,  of  the  psychological  condition  of  the 
generation  which  produces  it.  Vinet  always  regarded 
it  in  this  light.  Hence  his  criticism  was  never  slight 
or  superficial,  but  always  conscientious  and  exact. 
He  never  entered  on  the  study  of  great  writers,  simply 
with  a  view  to  finding  proofs  in  support  of  his  own 
beliefs.  Literature,  thus  treated,  becomes  only  a 
series  of  texts  for  one  endless  sermon.  No  one  had  a 
keener  relish  than  Vinet  for  the  pure  beauties  of  litera- 


270  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

ture,  and  he  delighted  in  kindling  the  same  enthusiasm 
in  others.  With  a  few  strokes  of  his  powerful  pen,  he 
would  characterise  our  great  writers,  but  he  always 
recognised  the  man  in  the  author.  He  never  ridiculed. 
We  always  feel  that  he  approaches  a  fellow-man  with 
respect  ;  and  when  he  finds  that  which  is  unworthy, 
he  treats  it  not  as  a  satirist,  but  as  a  good  physician, 
anxious  to  relieve,  if  possible,  the  ills  which  grieve  his 
compassionate  heart.  His  studies  of  the  nineteenth 
century  are  among  the  finest  pages  of  the  moral  history 
of  our  era,  into  which  he  had  a  singularly  clear  insight. 
Vinet  was  not  so  absorbed  in  the  conflict  of  ideas 
as  to  become  indifferent  to  the  not  less  ardent  contro- 
versy which  was  agitating  the  political  world  at  the 
same  time.  He  was  a  staunch  Liberal  on  every  ques- 
tion. It  was  impossible  that  he  should  be  otherwise, 
with  his  views  of  the  destiny  of  man.  Believing,  as 
he  did,  that  man  was  called  to  fulfil  in  the  free  exer- 
cise of  his  highest  faculties,  a  truly  divine  vocation, 
he  could  not  admit  that  he  was  subject  to  any  other 
yoke  than  that  of  the  protecting  law  of  liberty,  which 
is  the  true  guardian  of  peace  and  order  in  the  State. 
The  more  exalted  the  origin  and  destiny  of  man,  the 
surer  basis  is  there  for  his  rights  as  a  member  of  society. 
A  sacred  buckler  is  over  him,  and  any  wrong  done  to 
him  is  sacrilege.  Hence  Vinet's  deep  love  for  liberty. 
Speaking  of  it  in  a  letter  to  a  friend,  he  says :  "  As 
long  as  I  live,  my  heart  will  beat  true  to  the  cause  of 
freedom." 


ALEXANDRE  VINET.  271 

"  Even  though  liberty  were  fraught  with  all  imagin- 
able perils,"  he  says  again  ;  "  while  slavery  promised 
all  peace  and  tranquillity,  I  would  still  prefer  liberty, 
for  liberty  is  life,  and  slavery  death.  We  are  well 
aware  that  in  many  minds  this  word  liberty  awakens 
all  sorts  of  misgivings,  that  in  some  ears  it  sounds  like 
the  trumpet  blast  of  civil  discord.  But  surely  such 
fear  is  weakness.  Has  any  word  ever  been  more 
abused  ?  But  in  this  it  only  shares  the  fate  of  all  holy 
and  sublime  things.  From  the  very  beginning  of  the 
world,  the  conflict  has  been  going  on  between  slavery 
and  liberty.  The  sixty  centuries  of  its  history  have 
been  but  one  long  day  of  battle.  The  history  of  liberty 
has  been  assured  ever  since  the  great  Leader  of  man- 
kind placed  Himself  at  the  head  of  this  sacred  battalion, 
which  gains  strength  by  the  blows  which  it  receives 
even  more  than  by  those  which  it  gives." 

Vinet  thus  always  kept  in  view  the  close  connection 
between  liberty  in  its  outward  manifestations  and  its 
sacred  source.  "  Liberty  has  need,"  he  said,  "  of  a 
religious  basis."  He  shared  De  Tocqueville's  convic- 
tion :  "  The  man  who  does  not  believe,  is  of  necessity 
a  slave."  That  which  filled  him  with  the  keenest 
apprehension  for  France,  which  he  dearly  loved,  was 
the  fact  that  the  tree  of  its  liberal  Constitution,  with 
all  its  fresh  and  luxuriant  foliage,  had  no  deep  roots. 
This  state  of  things  wrung  from  him  a  cry  of  alarm. 
"Only  think,"  he  exclaimed,  "of  so  much  liberty,  and 
no  beliefs ! " 


272  CONTEMPORARY  PORTRAITS. 

We  have  mentioned  De  Tocqueville.  Vinet  was  in 
full  accord  with  this  great  and  noble  man,  who  was 
one  of  the  first,  after  Benjamin  Constant,  to  repudiate 
the  proceedings  of  the  Revolutionists,  refusing  to 
follow  the  school  of  Rousseau,  and  to  identify  liberty 
with  the  sovereignty  of  the  people.  He  maintained 
that  despotism  was  not  lightened  by  being  exercised 
by  many  tyrants  instead  of  one,  and  that  it  made  not 
the  slightest  difference  whether  the  rights  of  the 
individual  were  crushed  by  a  giant  with  a  single  club, 
or  by  a  Briareus  with  a  hundred  arms.  The  character- 
istic of  true  liberalism  is  that  it  limits  the  power  of 
the  State  with  a  view  to  the  protection  of  individual 
liberties,  and  makes  the  State  the  legal  guardian  of 
the  rights  of  the  citizen.  France  owes  much  to  De 
Tocqueville,  for  his  efforts  in  the  cause  of  decentral- 
isation,— a  cause  which  has  unhappily  been  forsaken 
of  late  by  its  former  defenders.  Vinet  did  equally 
effective  service  in  the  same  direction,  by  enforcing  a 
religious  respect  for  the  individual.  It  is  just  because 
man  is  a  moral  being  that  every  individual  has  an 
infinite  value,  and  that  it  can  never  be  lawful  to  sacri- 
fice him  for  the  public  cause,  as  if  he  were  a  mere 
integral  part  of  a  great  whole.  It  was  under  the. 
influence  of  this  broad  and  enlightened  liberalism 
that  Vinet,  on  the  eve  of  the  Revolution  of  1848 
(which  he  did  not  live  to  see),  attacked  the  principle 
of  Socialism,  with  characteristic  acumen  and  vigour. 

While  Vinet  was  thus  the  champion  of  all  liberties, 


ALEXANDRE  VI NET.  273 

he  was  the  indefatigable  and  incomparable  advocate 
of  religious  liberty,  carried  to  its  furthest  consequences. 
Tc  tb:s  subject  he  devoted  some  of  his  noblest  works 
— his  "  Memoire  "  of  1823,  his  volume  on  "La  mani- 
festation des  Convictions  religieuses,"  and  a  constant 
succession  of  pamphlets  and  articles,  called  forth  by 
the  current  polemics  of  a  little  democracy,  which  had 
small  regard  for  the  rights  of  conscience.  In  this 
cause  also,  he  served  under  the  same  banner  as  De 
Tocqueville,  and  had  soon  such  eminent  allies  as  MM. 
De  Laboulaye  and  Jules  Simon.  No  one  did  more 
than  Vinet  to  uplift  that  noble  standard  which,  un- 
happily, even  now — eighty  years  after  the  French 
Revolution,  and  three  centuries  after  the  Reformation 
— rallies  around  it  so  few  followers  on  the  Continent 
of  Europe. 

There  are  two  bases  on  which  liberty  of  conscience 
may  be  philosophically  maintained.  The  first  is  the 
impossibility  of  establishing  religious  truths  by  direct 
evidence,  which  takes  away  from  the  State  all  right  to 
impose  or  to  defend  them  by  force  ;  the  second  is 
respect  for  conscience,  on  the  ground  of  God's  exclu- 
sive right  of  control  over  it.  We  accept  both  lines  of 
argument.  We  hold  that  religious  and  philosophical 
truth  cannot  be  established  by  direct  evidence — a 
statement  which  Vinet,  who  laid  such  stress  upon  the 
moral  character  of  faith,  would  certainly  not  have 
disputed.  It  was  on  the  second  ground,  however,  that 
he  mainly  took  his  stand,  in   opposing  stedfastly  all 

19 


274  CONTEMPORAR  V  POR 7 RAITS. 

coercion  in  matters  of  religion,  as  the  most  odious 
abuse  of  power.  In  his  view,  there  was  no  worse 
offence  against  God  than  the  attempt  to  interpose  the 
rude  hand  of  the  State  between  Him  and  the  human 
soul.  He  says  :  "  It  is  impossible,  on  any  hypothesis 
whatever,  to  conceive  the  slightest  relation  between 
political  science  and  the  science  of  the  Infinite,  between 
politics  and  the  faith  of  the  heart,  between  the  police 
and  the  conscience.  The  sacred  realm  of  conscience 
is  the  unassailable  stronghold  of  individual  rights, — 
rights  which  belong  to  every  man  absolutely  and 
undividedly,  and  for  which  he  is  accountable  to  God 
alone.  Lest  any  should  mistake  his  meaning,  and 
confound  him  with  the  defenders  of  the  illusory  liberty 
for  the  right,  Verny  adds :  "  Liberty  of  conscience 
is  not  merely  the  competence  to  decide  between  one 
religion  and  another  ;  it  is  also  essentially  the  right 
not  to  accept  any." 

This,  then,  was  Vinet's  motto — liberty  for  all  men, 
under  all  circumstances  ;  liberty  not  only  for  the 
faithful,  but  for  the  unbelieving — nay,  even  for  the 
great  contemners  of  conscience.  Let  those  incon- 
sistent Liberals,  who  are  tempted  to  excuse  the 
attacks  made  on  the  Ultramontanes  in  Prussia  and  in 
Switzerland,  reflect  on  the  following  noble  words : 
"  If  ever  toleration  can  find  a  worthy  occasion  for  its 
exercise,  it  is  in  relation  to  the  intolerant." 

Vinet  did  not  rest  satisfied  with  generous  theories  : 
he  desired  to  see  the  recognition  of  liberty  in  practice, 


ALEXANDRE  VINET.  275 

as  well  as  in  principle.  Religious  liberty  was  in- 
separable, in  his  view,  from  liberty  of  worship  and 
of  outward  profession,  under  the  single  condition  of 
respect  for  the  laws  and  for  public  order.  He  went 
even  further — he  desired  to  see  the  independence  of 
worship  secured  by  the  separation  of  the  Church 
from  the  State.  It  was  not  enough  for  him  that  the 
Church  should  not  persecute  ;  he  was  equally  averse 
to  its  position  as  the  protector  of  religion,  for,  by 
such  protection,  it  acquires  a  privilege,  and  casts  its 
gold  or  its  sword  into  that  scale  of  the  sanctuary, 
which  ought  not  to  be  turned  by  any  but  the  highest 
moral  considerations.  To  expect  religious  liberty  in 
a  State  which  has  an  established  religion  of  its  own, 
is  a  chimera.  The  Church  is  an  association  of  souls, 
based  upon  individual  convictions  freely  arrived  at. 
Such  an  association  cannot  lawfully  identify  itself  with 
the  State,  which  is  a  purely  civil  institution,  in  which 
all  citizens  have  equal  rights  by  birth.  From  such  an 
unholy  alliance  one  of  two  results  must  follow  :  either 
the  Church  will  become  a  mere  external  organisation, 
within  whose  easy  enclosure  souls  will  be  lulled  into 
a  false  security  ;  or  it  will  be  a  refractory  force,  always 
at  issue  with  the  State,  and  compromised  in  the  purity 
of  its  character  alike  by  success  or  failure. 

It  may  be  objected  that  Vinet  went  too  far  in  his 
depreciation  of  the  State,  and  failed  to  recognise 
sufficiently  its  high  vocation  as  the  representative  of 
law.     All  we  ask  of  the  State  is  that  it  should  bear 


276  CONTEMPORAR  Y  PORTRAITS. 

in  mind  this  its  noble  function,  and  refuse  to  lend 
itself  to  the  violation  of  the  most  sacred  form  of  law 
— that  which  is  enshrined  in  the  human  conscience. 
The  State  will  never  be  further  from  atheism  than 
while  scrupulously  fulfilling  its  secular  duties  :  it  is 
really  atheistic  when  it  presumes  to  put  itself  in  the 
place  which  belongs  to  God  alone,  in  the  government 
of  souls. 

Even  if  we  admit,  however,  that  Vinet  may  have 
taken  an  inadequate  view  of  the  high  functions  of  the 
State,  we  must  still  regard  as  truly  sublime  his  elo- 
quent vindication  of  the  great  cause  of  spiritual 
independence,  which  Mirabeau  had  already  illumined 
with  some  of  the  lightning  flashes  of  his  genius,  as 
when  he  said  "religion  is  no  more  national  than 
conscience." 

In  our  estimation,  Vinet  has  no  rival  among  his 
contemporaries  in  the  vindication  of  these  principles, 
unless  it  be  Lamartine.  We  recall  his  noble  utter- 
ances on  the  subject  of  the  Concordat,  and  his  irre- 
pressible indignation  at  the  very  thought  of  a  religion 
placed  under  the  control  of  any  imperial  power  what- 
soever, or  of  a  sovereign  democracy.  The  separation 
of  the  Church  and  State  would  be,  as  he  deemed,  the 
fitting  consummation  of  what  he  called  the  religious 
phase  of  the  French  Revolution.  Vinet,  De  Toc- 
queville,  Lamartine — these  are  names  which  impart  a 
truer  than  any  mere  heraldic  dignity  to  a  great  idea, 
which  the  superficial  and  bigoted  adherents  of  routine 


ALEXANDRE  VINET.  277 

regard  as  among  the  abominations  of  a  rabid  Radi- 
calism. 

It  is  now  more  than  thirty  years  since  the  great 
thinker  of  Lausanne  died,  and  how  amply  has  the 
course  of  events  during  that  period  fulfilled  his  fore- 
cast. Those  tendencies  to  absolutism  in  religion  and 
politics,  which  he  never  ceased  to  denounce,  have 
been  carried  in  every  direction  to  their  furthest  issues. 
As  we  see  how  deeply  men's  minds  have  been  troubled 
by  the  insolent  pretensions  of  those  who  would  force 
upon  the  Church  a  fictitious  unity,  we  feel  the  full 
value  of  Vinet's  motto  :  "  Liberty  is  the  one  way  to 
unity."  What  an  unrestricted  application  he  himself 
gave  to  this  principle,  we  may  judge  from  the  follow- 
ing words :  "  Protestantism,"  he  says,  "  is  with  me 
only  a  starting-point  ;  my  religion  lies  beyond  it.  I 
may,  as  a  Protestant,  hold  Catholic  opinions  ;  and  who 
knows  whether  I  do  so  or  not  ?  That  which  I  repu- 
diate, utterly,  is  the  right  of  any  human  power  to 
control  my  beliefs." 

How  grandly  does  this  exalted  liberalism  of 
Vinet's,  based  upon  the  purest  religion,  contrast  with 
the  social  theories  which  the  materialistic  school 
deduces  from  its  philosophical  principles — theories 
which  daringly  apply  to  humanity  the  doctrine  of  the 
survival  of  the  fittest,  and  declare  with  a  cynical  in- 
difference that  the  weak  must  give  place  to  the 
strong.  Was  not  Vinet  right  when  he  said  that 
materialism  throws  all  its  weight    into  the  scale  of 


278  CONTEMFORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

tyranny  ?  The  world  has  never  yet  seen  any  des- 
potism so  terrible  as  that  which  would  hold  it  in  its 
grasp,  if  these  deadly  systems,  to  which  some  of  the 
most  distinguished  psychologists  of  the  day  lend  the 
support  of  their  genius,  were  ever  to  become  dominant 
in  the  minds  of  men.  Let  us  fully  realise  our 
position.  We  are  lost  if  Christian  spirituality  does 
not  win  the  day  ;  and  it  will  only  win  it  if  it  is  faith- 
ful to  those  principles  of  broad  and  honest  liberalism 
which  Vinet  consistently  advocated.  We  are  sick  at 
heart  of  those  ostentatious  appeals  to  liberal  prin- 
ciples, made  by  the  worst  enemies  of  liberty,  when 
they  are  anxious  to  secure  a  vantage-ground  for 
trampling  it  under  foot.  They  have  taken  the  surest 
means  to  dishonour  their  cause,  and,  more  than  that, 
to  bring  discredit  on  the  idea  of  religion,  of  which 
they  are  the  unworthy  representatives.  Religion  loses 
all  its  force  and  dignity  when  it  is  dissociated  from 
the  idea  of  freedom. 

Vinet  has  left  a  noble  heritage  to  be  entered  upon 
by  this  generation.  To  give  full  liberty  to  religion, 
and  to  restrict  the  authority  of  the  State  to  its  proper 
civil  sphere — this  was  the  object  of  his  unrelaxing 
efforts. 

We  are  fully  convinced  that  no  other  solution  of 
the  ecclesiastical  problem  is  possible,  and  that  till  this 
is  accepted,  we  shall  see  the  perpetual  renewal  of  those 
disastrous  and  dangerous  struggles  for  exclusive 
power  and   privilege  to  persecute,  which  are  equally 


ALEXANDRE  VINET.  279 

dishonouring  to  the  Churches  and  prejudicial  to  the 
State. 

There  are  few  writers  who  can  be  studied  with 
more  advantage  at  the  present  time  than  Vinet.  We 
are  thankful  to  M.  Rambert  for  bringing  before  us 
this  type  of  a  lofty  and  liberal  Christianity,  which 
vindicates  the  gospel  from  many  of  the  calumnies 
cast  upon  it,  by  showing  what  it  is  in  its  true  spirit, 
in  contrast  to  those  miserable  travesties  which  are 
often  presented  to  us  in  its  name. 


VERNY  AND  ROBERTSON. 


VERNY  AND  ROBERTSON. 

"  Ces  questions,  coupables  amusements  des  esprits  legers,  inson- 
dables   douleurs  des  dmes  profondes"    (Verny.      Sermons,    p. 

358). 

THE  names  of  Verny  and  Robertson  recall  two 
of  the  most  remarkable  representatives  of  the 
Church  of  our  day,  both  removed  by  death  in  the 
fulness  of  their  manhood,  after  passing  through  a 
crisis  in  their  spiritual  life,  in  which  they  only  achieved 
the  victory  after  a  long  and  painful  struggle.  Both 
started  from  the  most  rigid  orthodoxy ;  but  they  soon 
grew  ill  at  ease  in  a  vesture  which  was  too  narrow  for 
their  spirits.  The  questions  of  the  day  pressed  upon 
them,  and  having  been  taught  to  confound  theology 
with  religion,  or  rather  a  particular  theology  with  the 
very  essence  of  Christianity,  they  thought  they  had 
lost  their  faith,  when  they  could  no  longer  hold  fast  this 
form  of  sound  words.  The  anguish  of  mind  which 
both  suffered  at  this  crisis  of  their  mental  history 
shows  how  dearly  they  loved  the  truth.     To  them  it 


284  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

was  no  mere  theory  to  be  held  or  dropped,  but  the 
very  gist  of  life,  without  which  existence  would  be 
aimless  and  worthless.  They  were  among  the  trem- 
bling seekers  after  truth ;  but  their  quest  was  pursued 
all  the  more  sorrowfully  because  they  had  to  begin  it 
afresh  after  having  once  already,  as  they  had  sup- 
posed, found  and  grasped  the  hidden  treasure.  This 
it  was  which  made  their  position  peculiarly  painful. 
But  their  ultimate  success  was  certain,  for  they  used 
the  means  by  which  alone  a  full  assurance  of  truth  can 
be  finally  reached.  They  did  not  treat  the  grave 
doubt  which  had  arisen  in  their  hearts  as  a  demon  to 
be  exorcised,  nor  did  they  try  to  banish  it  by  an 
unintelligent  surrender  of  reason  to  authority.  They 
had  too  much  respect  for  truth  to  hold  it  so  cheap. 
They  were  careful,  however,  not  to  allow  the  doubt  to 
extend  to  their  moral  and  religious  life  ;  they  held 
fast  those  immutable  convictions  of  right  and  wrong 
to  which  conscience  appeals.  These  supplied  a  fixed 
point  on  which  the  lever  of  inquiry  might  rest.  Above 
all,  they  held  constant  fellowship  with  the  living  God, 
the  source  of  all  purity  and  light.  They  thus  escaped 
that  moral  scepticism  which  is  a  disease  of  heart  and 
brain,  smiting  both  with  sterility,  and  against  which 
conscience  raises  its  accusing  voice.  Both  Verny  and 
Robertson,  as  we  shall  see,  came  out  from  the  spiritual 
conflict  with  their  faith  purified  and  enlarged,  and 
established  upon  a  more  solid  basis. 

I  am  far  from  saying  that  either  had  arrived  at  the 


VERN Y  AND  R OBER TSOJV.  285 

complete  apprehension  of  Christian  truth.  I  shall 
have  to  draw  attention  to  more  than  one  point  on 
which  their  creed  appears  to  me  deficient ;  but  it  bears 
the  unquestionable  impress  of  the  gospel  of  Christ, 
and,  in  many  respects,  it  is  peculiarly  adapted  to  the 
wants  of  our  generation.  Nothing  is  likely  to  be  of 
more  use  in  the  present  day  than  the  example  of  men 
like  these.  All  the  disciples  of  Christ  are  not  re- 
quired to  pass  through  the  same  experiences.  There 
are  many  who  never  know  any  other  conflict  than 
that  against  sin  ;  once  born  into  the  new  life,  doubts 
no  more  arise  in  their  hearts.  Their  convictions  are 
solid  and  genuine,  based  upon  their  personal  experi- 
ence of  the  truth.  There  is  a  cast  of  mind  to  which 
doubt  is  impossible,  and  which  instinctively  ignores 
all  the  problems  of  religious  thought.  We  admit  that 
such  a  spiritual  attitude  is  perfectly  legitimate  :  all  we 
ask  is  that  it  should  not  be  exacted  of  all  Christians, 
and  that  a  happy,  natural  disposition  should  not  be 
confounded  with  faith.  We  must  recognise  the  exist- 
ence also  of  minds  of  another  order,  more  disposed  by 
habit  and  constitution  to  the  analysis  of  ideas  and 
doctrines,  and  which,  while  they  bow  in  reverence 
before  the  cross,  want  to  test  the  firm  foundations  of 
their  faith.  To  such  minds  there  must  come  painful 
crises  of  self-questioning  in  times  like  ours,  when  so 
many  difficult  problems  constantly  present  them- 
selves, and  when,  in  the  great  heritage  of  thought 
received  from  past  generations,  we  are  called  upon  to 


286  CONTEMPORAR  Y  PORTRAITS. 

distinguish  between  what  is  eternal  truth  and  what  is 
merely  human  tradition.  Let  it  be  observed,  more- 
over, that  this  cannot  be  accomplished,  as  in  the  times 
of  the  Reformation,  by  one  of  those  great  religious 
movements  which  destroy  by  replacing,  and  the  nega- 
tions of  which  are  but  as  it  were  the  keen  point  of 
powerful  affirmations.  The  fire,  which  burns  up  the 
straw  and  the  stubble,  mixed  with  the  true  material  in 
the  Christian  building,  comes  straight  from  heaven, 
and  it  begins  by  kindling  a  new  and  intense  life  in 
the  believing  soul. 

There  has  been  nothing  of  this  sort  in  our  day. 
The  change  in  theology,  which  our  generation  has  wit- 
nessed, has  been  wrought  by  a  spirit  of  inquiry,  rather 
subtle  than  fervent,  and  working  under  a  cold  and 
cloudy  sky.  It  is  a  spirit  in  harmony  with  the  age ;  but 
one  which  is  full  of  danger  to  the  Christian  life.  Hence 
the  permanent  interest  that  attaches  for  us  to  the 
spiritual  history  of  such  men  as  Verny  and  Robertson. 
In  them  we  see  true  faith  coming  forth  victorious  from 
the  agonising  conflict  with  doubt.  From  them  we 
learn  that  inquiry  does  not  necessarily  result  in  the 
frivolous  negations  of  Rationalism,  which  are  the  bane 
of  our  modern  Protestantism.  That  which  strikes  us, 
indeed,  in  this  so-called  liberalism,  is  not  so  much  the 
poverty  of  its  results,  as  that  self-satisfaction  which  it 
displays  so  ostentatiously,  in  the  midst  of  the  ever- 
widening  religious  and  theological  desert  which  it 
creates  around  itself.     We  find  no  trace  of  that  spirit 


VERNY  AND  ROBERTSON.  287 

of  earnest  inquiry  which  is  ever  characteristic  of  the 
ardent  lovers  of  truth.  The  calm  complacency  of  the 
Rationalistic  school  has  no  parallel,  unless  it  be  in 
that  of  a  certain  orthodox  school,  which  believes  it 
has  comprehended  the  inexhaustible  treasure  of  reve- 
lation in  a  few  well-defined  formularies.  The  evolu- 
tions of  the  young  theological  Left  remind  us  of  the 
feats  of  brilliant  skaters.  They  go  curvetting  and 
gliding  over  the  brittle  surface,  beneath  which  lie 
depths  of  which  they  never  think — the  deep  mysteries 
of  heaven  and  hell,  of  human  sin  and  of  Divine  love. 
Verny  and  Robertson  were  utter  strangers  to  this 
smiling  and  superficial  theology,  neither  on  the  other 
hand  did  they  make  shipwreck  upon  the  barren  rock 
of  universal  doubt.  In  reading  theirwritings — those  of 
Robertson  especially — I  am  reminded  of  the  impres- 
sive, sternly  mournful  pages  in  which  M.  Scherer  has 
related  the  tragic  story  of  Montaigu,  a  type  easy  to 
recognise,  and  nobler  a  hundred  times  than  the  blatant 
triflers  of  one  section  of  the  theological  Left.  The 
adaptation  of  the  monologue  of  Faust  to  our  present 
circumstances  is  very  pathetic. 

Robertson  has  described,  in  terms  not  less  eloquent, 
the  night  of  anguish  in  which  the  faith  he  had  held 
as  a  mere  tradition,  slipped  from  him.  Only  he  goes 
on  to  tell  us  how  he  again  found  Christ.  He  was  not 
satisfied,  like  Faust  and  Montaigu,  with  listening  to 
the  Easter  bells,  and  yielding  to  a  mere  reverie  of 
poetic  sadness.     He  heard,  at  the  same  time,  a  deeper 


288  CONTEMFORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

tone,  the  voice  of  conscience,  which  he  never  allowed 
to  be  stifled  by  his  intellectual  doubts.  He  heard, 
too,  in  the  depths  of  his  heart,  another  voice,  yet  more 
sublime  and  tender,  the  voice  of  the  God  of  the 
gospel ;  and  thus  he  came  out  of  the  struggle  with  a 
yet  firmer  grasp  of  those  beliefs,  which  are  the  safe- 
guards of  the  moral,  no  less  than  of  the  religious  life. 
In  his  biography  we  have  the  description,  not  only  of 
the  night  of  windy  storm  and  tempest,  but  also  of  the 
faithful  star  which  guided  him  into  the  port  of  peace. 


I. 

The  volume  of  Verny's  Sermons  brings  vividly 
before  us  the  thinker  and  the  preacher,  but  no  written 
words  can  do  full  justice  to  his  peculiar  genius,  to 
that  versatility  and  freshness  of  mind  which  lent  such 
a  charm  to  his  unstudied  intercourse  with  his  friends. 
In  such  free  conversation,  he  poured  forth  the 
treasures  of  his  knowledge,  and  the  still  richer 
treasures  of  his  own  heart  and  mind,  with  a  readiness 
and  richness  of  utterance  rarely  equalled.  His  was 
an  ardent  and  highly  sensitive  nature.  His  eyes 
would  fill  with  tears  under  the  influence  of  some 
strong  emotion,  when  a  moment  before  he  had  been 
indulging  in  bright,  humorous  sallies,  sometimes  not 
unmixed  with  a  touch  of  irony.  The  reason  why  he 
did  not  write  more  was  no  doubt  this,  that  he  was 
never  wholly  himself,  pen    in    hand.     In    his   pulpit 


VERNY  AND  ROBERTSON.  289 

preparations,  he  was  obliged  to  adopt  a  very  exact 
method,  lest  he  should  be  carried  away  by  his  con- 
stant habit  of  rapid,  impulsive  improvisation.  He 
had  to  keep  within  rigid  bounds,  those  floods  of  im- 
petuous eloquence  which  were  always  ready  to  burst 
forth.  Hence  the  fine  aroma  of  his  genius  can  never 
be  fully  appreciated  by  those  who  know  him  only 
through  his  writings.  The  pious  urn,  in  which  his 
remains  are  presented  to  us  to-day,  contains  only  the 
cold  ashes  of  his  powerful  intellect.  This  is,  however, 
no  mean  memorial,  and  we  are  deeply  grateful  to  the 
family  of  the  author  for  this  valuable  contribution  to 
our  religious  literature. 

The  short  biographical  notice  with  which  the 
Sermons  are  prefaced,  gives  us  the  principal  phases 
of  Verny's  life,  especially  in  its  moral  and  religious 
aspect.  He  began  at  the  bar.  His  dedication  to  the 
ministry  was  the  result  of  his  own  well-considered 
choice,  and  not  a  career  pre-determined  for  him  by 
his  family.  He  always  carefully  avoided  any  assump- 
tion of  the  clerical,  either  in  speech  or  manner,  and 
was  never  betrayed  into  anything  like  religious  cant. 
The  knowledge  he  gained  of  life  and  of  men,  in  his 
legal  apprenticeship,  was  the  best  preparation  possible 
for  the  ministry.  Most  of  the  leading  preachers 
among  the  Catholic  clergy  have  been  engaged  in 
some  civil  career  before  entering  the  seminary,  and 
have  thus  acquired  a  manliness  which  education  in  a 
clerical  hot-house  can  never  give. 

20 


290  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

It  was  at  Mulhouse,  when  acting  as  Principal  of  the 
College  in  that  town,  that  Verny  became  a  new  man. 
He  says  himself:  "It  was  Vinet  who  removed  the 
cataract  from  my  eyes."  He  could  not  have  come 
under  a  healthier  influence,  or  one  more  adapted  to 
his  noble  and  vigorous  nature. 

Vinet  remained  through  life  his  most  dear  and 
venerated  friend.  We  understand  that  the  corres- 
pondence between  these  great  men  has  been  pre- 
served. We  may  hope  that  it  will  one  day  be 
published,  for  what  could  be  more  rich  in  interest 
than  the  interchange  of  two  such  minds  on  the 
highest  themes  of  thought  and  feeling. 

At  this  time,  about  the  year  1834,  no  difference  of 
opinion  had  yet  arisen  to  overshadow  the  dawn  of  the 
religious  awakening  in  Protestant  France.  It  is  easy 
to  trace  in  the  early  writings  of  Vinet  a  fresh  current 
of  thought,  distinct  from  the  prevailing  orthodoxy; 
but  this  current  was  then  like  the  Rhone  in  the  Lake 
of  Geneva,  a  distinct,  but  not  as  yet  divergent,  stream. 
Verny,  therefore,  could  be  at  this  time  a  disciple  of 
Vinet,  without  any  marked  dissidence  from  the  then 
prevailing  mode  of  thought. 

On  his  nomination  to  the  pastorate  of  the  Lutheran 
Church  of  Paris,  he  at  once  took  his  place  among  the 
excellent  men  who  were  at  that  time  the  leaders  of 
the  orthodox  religious  movement,  and  he  contended, 
side  by  side  with  them,  against  the  mitigated  Ra- 
tionalism which  still  widely  prevailed.      He  appears 


VERNY  AND  R OBER  TSON.  29 1 

even  to  have  preached  emphatically  the  particular 
doctrine  of  his  Church  as  to  the  Lord's  Supper, 
although  he  was  never  an  advocate  of  the  rigid  ex- 
clusiveness  which  characterised  it  subsequently,  espe- 
cially in  Alsace.  A  contributor  to  the  periodical,  the 
"  Semeur,"  x  and  closely  associated  with  Vinet,  who 
conducted  it  with  so  much  judgment  and  generous 
large-heartedness,  he  was  entirely  free  from  the  sec- 
tarian spirit  which  can  see  nothing  beyond  its  own 
narrow  sphere,  and  looks  suspiciously  on  everything 
that  will  not  fall  in  with  its  petty  theories. 

A  crisis  in  Verny's  life,  however,  was  approaching — 
a  crisis  rendered  inevitable  by  the  intellectual  and  re- 
ligious atmosphere  of  the  day  in  which  he  lived. 

In  our  time  we  are  disposed  to  look  on  the  religious 
revival  through  a  softening  haze  of  distance,  which 
gives  it  an  unreal  breadth  of  horizon.  We  do  it  more 
simple  justice  when  we  recognise  it  as  it  actually  was, 
in  all  its  rough  but  vigorous  originality.  The  services 
rendered  by  it  are  so  great,  that  we  can  afford  to 
acknowledge  that  it  was  narrow  and  incomplete,  with- 
out lessening  its  claim  to  our  devout  thankfulness. 
To  say  that  its  theology  was  well-considered,  that  it 
had  a  due  regard  for  the  liberty  of  Christian  thought, 
that  it  adequately  recognised  the  claims  of  science, 
would  be  to  put  fiction  in  the  place  of  history.    There 


In  reference  to  the  "  Semeur,"  see  remarks  in  the  Article 
on  Vinet. 


292  CONTEMPORA R  Y  FOR  TRA ITS. 

has  been  a  disposition  recently  to  resent  the  assertion, 
that  the  theology  of  the  revival  is  identical  with  that 
of  the  seventeenth  century.  What,  then,  are  the  dif- 
ferences between  the  two  ?  The  current  notions  of 
that  period  as  to  verbal  inspiration,  expiation,  and 
many  other  points,  are  much  more  nearly  allied  to  the 
Confession  of  Dort  than  of  Rochelle.  This  theology 
is  purely  and  simply  the  almost  literal  translation  of 
the  English  theology  of  the  commencement  of  the 
present  century,  and  this,  in  its  turn,  is  the  legitimate 
offspring  of  the  narrow  dogmatism  of  the  seventeenth. 
Undoubtedly,  from  a  moral  point  of  view,  the  differ- 
ence was  great ;  a  Divine  fire  of  enthusiasm  and  of 
charity  glowed  through  this  meagre  theology  ;  but  in 
order  to  recognise  the  actual  progress  of  the  revival 
since  the  time  of  the  Swiss  Consensus,  we  must  draw  a 
distinction  between  theology  and  faith,  which  the  fore- 
most representatives  of  the  revival  resolutely  dis- 
allowed. In  the  fervour  of  their  belief  and  the  nar- 
rowness of  their  knowledge,  they  could  not  conceive 
of  a  possible  history  of  doctrine.  To  them  it  seemed 
that  the  orthodoxy  of  the  day  had  been  the  invariable 
belief  of  all  true  Christians,  and  that  "  the  good  sound 
doctrine  "  had  been  professed  on  all  points  by  Chris- 
tian antiquity  ;  that  it  had  been  re-discovered  intact 
by  the  Reformers,  and  brought  into  full  relief  in  all  its 
integrity  by  the  fathers  of  the  revival.  I  appeal,  in 
support  of  this  statement,  to  the  writings  of  the  ve- 
nerable Gaussen,  and  to  the  course  of  argument  con- 


VERNY  AND  ROBERTSON.  293 

stantly  adopted  in  the  "  Archives  du  Christianisme," 
conducted  by  the  venerated  Frederic  Monod,  whose 
name  is  identified  in  our  warmest  memories  with  the 
purest  disinterestedness,  the  most  sincere  faith,  and 
courageous  candour.  I  appeal,  yet  further,  to  the  pro- 
tests of  the  elder  M.  Bost,  whose  powerful  vindication 
of  the  distinction  between  theology  and  religion  was 
not  a  mere  fighting  the  air.  Neither  the  "  Semeur"  nor 
Vinet  himself  had  as  yet  taken  sufficiently  firm  ground 
against  this  dangerous  tendency  of  the  time,  the  effect 
of  which  was  to  confound  eternal  truth  with  transitory 
forms,  the  human  system  with  the  Divine  substance. 
It  was  an  error  fraught  with  manifold  perils,  for  it 
compromised  eternal  things  in  the  variations  of  theo- 
logical formularies  ;  and  it  held  fast,  as  the  seamless 
vesture  of  Christianity,  a  worn  and  patchwork  robe, 
altogether  unworthy  and  inadequate  to  enfold  its 
spirit  of  immortal  youth. 

I  lay  stress  upon  this  point,  because  it  explains,  not 
only  the  spiritual  crisis  through  which  Verny  passed, 
but  also  the  particular  form  of  his  new  theology,  with 
its  merits  and  defects.  Always  eager  after  knowledge, 
he  kept  himself  well  up  in  all  the  movements  of  re- 
ligious thought,  and  especially  followed  carefully  the 
discussions  of  German  theology.  Here  all  questions 
were  boldly  approached,  and  the  argument  called  forth 
by  Strauss'  "  Leben  Jesu,"  brought  to  the  front  the  most 
widely  differing  views.  The  evangelical  School,  led 
by  men  like  Neander  and  Nitzch,  brought  forward, 


294  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

under  the  banner  of  evangelicalism,  ideas  which  would 
have  been  regarded  as  of  very  questionable  orthodoxy 
on  the  French  side  of  the  Rhine.  There  was  no  pass- 
ing with  impunity  in  that  day  the  terrible  Styx,  which 
divided  the  peaceful  shores  of  uncontested  beliefs 
from  the  stormy  strand  of  daring  speculation.  It  was 
not  without  a  sharp  wrench,  that  faith  was  separated 
from  its  formula.  It  seemed,  indeed,  at  one  time, 
as  if  faith  itself  must  be  uprooted  in  the  process.  So 
it  was  with  Verny.  The  conflict  in  his  case  was  sharp 
and  agonising.  How  could  it  be  otherwise,  in  a  nature 
so  strong  as  his,  to  which  truth  was  no  mere  matter 
of  curious  speculation,  but  the  great  aim  and  end  of 
life  ?  To  him,  to  lose  Christ  was  to  lose  all  that 
gave  strength  and  joy  to  his  spiritual  being — his  ideal, 
his  hope.  What  was  his  agony  when  it  seemed  to 
him  that  this  heavenly  Friend,  this  Divine  brother,  was 
slipping  from  his  embrace,  was  growing  dim  to  him 
in  clouds  of  bewildering  thought  ?  The  burden  of 
his  ministry  aggravated  his  distress.  He  felt  com- 
pelled to  give  it  up  for  a  time,  for  he  was  not  made  of 
the  same  stuff  as  those  Savoyard  vicars,  who  go  on 
with  a  mass  in  which  they  no  longer  believe,  and 
babble  through  a  creed  which  they  have  ceased  to 
accept.  This  sublime  duplicity  had  not  yet  been  in- 
troduced into  the  category  of  cardinal  virtues.  Verny, 
himself,  tells  us  how  he  found  his  way  into  the  light 
out  of  this  dense  darkness.  He  held  fast  to  the  sacred 
convictions  of  his  moral  nature,  and  never  ceased  for 


VERNY  AND  ROBERTSON.  295 

an  instant  to  wait  upon  God.  We  may  quote  part  of 
a  letter,  written  by  him  from  Germany,  as  a  report 
from  the  field  of  battle.  It  is  easy  to  predict  from  it 
the  victory  that  was  at  hand. 

"The  grace  of  God,"  he  writes  to  his  wife,  "is  with 
me.  I  have  not  ceased  to  pray  ;  I  pray  still.  And 
I  hope — I  know — that  through  all  this  doubt  and 
anxiety,  I  shall  reach  light  and  peace.  This  struggle 
is  for  my  good,  and  I  cannot  doubt  that  the  goodness 
of  God  has  yet  happy  days  in  store  for  me  in  His 
service.  I  am  not  trying  to  constrain  myself  to 
become  a  Methodist  again,  nolens  volens,  to  please 
my  friends.  No  ;  I  desire  to  be  sincere  before  God 
and  man.  To  profess  again  the  strictly  orthodox  views 
would  be,  I  feel,  to  act  a  lie.  By  meditation  and  by 
the  study  of  Scripture,  I  must  endeavour  to  frame  a 
theology,  which  I  can  bring  before  God  with  the 
approval  of  my  conscience.  This  is  a  painful  and 
difficult  task  ;  but  I  will  not  shrink  from  it.  I  desire 
above  all  things  to  be  sincere  and  true. 

"  I  most  assuredly  shall  not,  through  fear  of  offend- 
ing such  and  such  person,  hold  myself  bound  by  an 
orthodoxy  which  in  me  would  be  hypocritical.  But 
I  shall  hold  fast  with  all  my  strength,  that  which 
God  has  given  and  confirmed  to  me:  faith  in  Himself, 
in  His  grace,  His  mercy,  His  love  which  pardons  all 
sin  and  heals  all  wounds.  There  is,  I  feel  it,  some- 
thing above  ourselves  ;  there  is  an  eye  that  sees,  an 
ear  that  hears,  a  mercy  which  pities  and  brings  relief 


296  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

to  perplexed  and  anguished  hearts.  I  feel  so  deeply, 
I  see  so  clearly,  that  out  of  God  is  no  peace,  no  joy, 
no  true  life.  All  misery,  all  trouble,  all  bitterness 
come  from  seeking  satisfaction  apart  from  Him.  I 
must  renounce  self  utterly,  must  make  a  complete 
surrender  of  my  own  will,  my  own  glory,  and  only 
live  in  Him.     Then  all  will  be  well." 

We  find  the  reflection  of  this  great  spiritual  crisis 
in  Verny's  life,  in  a  funeral  sermon  preached  by  him 
for  one  of  his  dearest  friends,  who  was  prematurely 
cut  off  just  as  he  was  entering  on  a  brilliant  literary 
career.  This  friend  was  Adolphe  Lebre,  so  well 
described  by  Vinet  in  the  letter  of  introduction  sent 
by  him  to  Verny.  "  I  have  never  known,"  says 
Vinet,  "  a  more  sincere  and  devoted  lover  of  truth. 
He  has  the  mind  of  a  philosopher,  and  the  heart  ol 
a  Christian."  We  ourselves,  who  had  the  privilege 
of  his  intimacy,  know  how  well  deserved  was  this 
encomium.  Lebre  lives  in  our  memory  as  one  of  the 
purest  and  most  elevated  of  thinkers.  To  him  too 
the  darkness  came,  and,  less  happy  than  others,  he 
never  saw  the  light  again  till  it  dawned  upon  him  in 
the  eternal  morning  beyond  the  grave.  He  died 
before  his  beliefs  had  recovered  their  equilibrium.  A 
too  vivid  imagination  added  much  to  his  actual 
sufferings,  and  a  terrible  disease  carried  him  off  in  a 
few  days. 

Never,   however,   did    his    heart   swerve   from   his 
loyalty  to  Christ.     An  extract  from  an  unpublished 


VERNY  AND  ROBERTSON.  297 

letter,  written  by  Lebre  himself,  will  best  bring  him 
before  the  reader.  His  intimacy  with  Verny,  at  this 
period  of  his  life,  gives  to  the  following  passages  a 
real  bearing  upon  the  subject  before  us.  They  are 
not  a  digression,  for  they  throw  much  light  upon  the 
spiritual  attitude  of  the  two  friends  at  this  crisis,  and 
they  help  us  to  understand  perfectly  the  manner  in 
which  Verny  spoke  at  the  grave  of  Lebre. 

"  You  doubt,"  writes  Lebre  to  a  young  student.  "I 
do  not  wonder  at  it.  It  is  impossible  in  our  day  to 
go  fairly  into  scientific  questions  without  encountering 
doubt.  We  are  in  a  transition  period.  A  reformation 
much  more  broad  and  deep  than  that  of  the  sixteenth 
century  is  in  preparation.  Catholicism  and  Protes- 
tantism will  perish  in  it :  a  new  era  is  at  hand  for  the 
whole  world.  That  kind  of  doubt  which  redoubles 
its  watchfulness  in  obedience,  its  ardour  in  prayer, 
and  which  is  full  of  holy  aspirations,  is  alone  of  God  ; 
the  other  kind  of  doubt  leads  to  license  of  the  will, 
to  sinful  self  indulgence  ;  it  degrades  the  soul  and 
does  the  work  of  sin  and  death.  It  destroys  the 
past,  and  it  would  blot  out  the  future,  if  God  allowed 
it  to  triumph.  The  doubt  which  comes  from  God 
works  sorrow,  but  it  works  also  life.  It  destroys 
nothing  in  the  past,  but  that  which  is  imperfect  and 
transitory.  It  gives  life  to  all  that  deserves  to  live. 
It  rends  the  soul,  but  it  lifts  it  higher  and  makes  it 
greater,  for  it  springs  from  new  and  loftier  aspirations. 
You    doubt :    this   is    a    reason   to   be   all   the   more 


?98  CONTEMPORARY  PORTRAITS. 

submissive  to  conscience,  to  obey  it  more  strictly,  to 
strengthen  the  soul  in  the  love  of  good  and  the 
hatred  of  evil,  to  watch  over  it  with  holy  trembling. 
When  doubt  attempts  to  enter  the  domain  of  con- 
science, to  attack  foully  the  eternal  principles  of  right ; 
or  when  you  discover  that  the  metaphysical  scep- 
ticism will  in  the  end  shake  your  moral  convictions 
and  dull  your  conscience  ;  whenever,  in  a  word,  doubt 
would  urge  you  to  a  less  high,  pure,  and  noble 
practice ;  when  it  would  weaken  your  love  for  the  right 
or  your  power  to  do  it  ;  when  it  would  make  you 
indulgent  to  your  own  selfishness,  and  exempt  you 
from  sacrifice  and  self-devotion — then,  be  sure,  it  con- 
ceals a  mortal  error.  Reject  it !  Listen  to  nothing 
that  would  lower  you  :  it  cannot  be  the  light  of  truth. 
And  if  your  selfish,  carnal,  evil  heart  finds  a  secret 
pleasure  in  it,  take  alarm  and  resolve  to  flee  from  it 
Seek  the  truth  with  your  whole  heart,  and  you  will 
find  it.  Begin  by  making  it  a  law  to  obey  that  which 
you  know  to  be  right,  to  hold  evil  in  abhorrence,  to 
follow  in  everything  the  voice  of  duty. 

"  In  scepticism  the  conscience  is  often  very  dull,  but 
obey  all  that  still  remains  clear.  Follow  your  gene- 
rous instincts,  all  high  and  noble  desires.  Make  it 
your  aim  to  become  manly  in  the  true  sense  of  the 
word.  I  mean,  try  above  all  things  to  do  right,  to 
deny  self  and  live  for  others.  Lastly,  do  not  stifle, 
by  an  evil,  petty,  miserably  distracted  or  dissipated 
life,  the  light  that  yet  remains  within  you.     Follow 


VERNY  AND  ROBERTSON.  299 

its  leadings,  and  from  day  to  day  they  will  grow- 
clearer  and  stronger.  Be  faithful  also  to  prayer.  You 
will  feel  the  need  of  this  in  order  to  resist  temptation. 
You  ought  to  feel  the  need  of  this  help  also  in  that 
search  after  truth  which  is  at  once  so  difficult  and  so 
simple  ;  in  which  the  upright  heart  always  succeeds, 
while  the  heart  that  is  not  honest  goes  ever  further 
and  further  astray.  Pray  according  to  your  faith  ; 
God  will  hear  you.  Say  to  Him,  as  did  one  of  those 
mighty  Christians  who  passed  through  a  long  period 
of  doubt  before  he  could  grasp  the  truth  for  which  he 
longed  :  '  My  God,  whatever  Thou  art,  enlighten  me  ; 
make  Thyself  known  to  me.  Give  me  to  seek  Thee 
and  to  desire  Thee.  Give  me  to  live  aright.'  The 
light  came  little  by  little,  and  at  length  he  believed. 
Oh  !  dear  soul,  if  with  sincerity  and  perseverance  you 
will  do  this,  I  shall  rest  calmly  about  you.  I  do  not 
know  when  you  will  see  your  prayer  answered  ;  but  I 
have  this  certainty,  that  it  will  be  answered.  You 
are,  perhaps,  alarmed  at  this  way,  but  you  shall  not 
walk  in  it  alone.  Whenever  we  have  a  sincere  desire 
after  God,  He  is  with  us  ;  He  aids,  He  sustains  us. 
Why  should  we  fear  the  difficulties  of  the  road  ?  We 
have  the  most  helpful,  the  most  faithful  of  friends,  who 
knows  all  our  weakness,  who  pities  it,  who  sends  us 
inward  peace  and  joy  of  conscience  to  strengthen  us, 
who  measures  out  the  work  of  each  day  as  we  are 
able  to  bear  it.  He  has  towards  us  a  heart  full  of 
love,  tenderer  than  a  mother's.     As  soon  as  we  set 


300  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

out  on  our  way  back  to  the  Father's  house,  He  runs 
to  meet  His  prodigal  child.  The  faintest  sigh  of  the 
soul  that  is  seeking  Him  is  more  precious  to  Him  than 
the  persevering  efforts  of  the  self-righteous.  He  is 
full  of  goodness,  of  strength,  of  pity,  of  gentleness,  of 
all  tender  mercies.  He  is  only  severe  to  those  who 
have  no  desire  after  that  which  is  good.  Let  us  trust 
in  God  to  help  us  in  the  good  fight,  and  He  will  give 
us  the  strength  in  which  we  shall  conquer.  You  feel 
melancholy,  perhaps,  at  the  thought  of  a  Christian 
life.  It  seems  to  us  sometimes  as  if  it  were  sacrificing 
our  youth.  But  what  an  illusion  !  It  is  only  Chris- 
tianity which  can  give  the  true  youth,  for  it  alone 
gives  the  true  love.  Oh,  what  a  power  does  it  give  of 
sacrifice  ;  what  a  passion  of  devotion  ;  what  an  ac- 
quaintance with  the  infinite  ;  what  worship  of  all  that 
is  noble,  generous,  elevated,  pure ;  what  a  life  of 
the  heart,  what  a  glorious  expansion  of  our  whole 
soul,  what  an  impulse  to  our  hopes  which  rise  im- 
mense, eternal !  The  joys  and  festivities  of  our  youth 
are  but  the  image  of  the  joys  and  festivities  of  the 
Christian  life  ;  that  is  the  true,  immortal  youth,  the 
other  is  but  a  transitory  shadow.  So  far  from  drying 
up  the  fountains  of  the  spring,  Jesus  Christ  opens  in 
the  heart  that  receives  Him  wells  of  living  water. 
All  that  is  noble  and  beautiful,  the  fire  of  the  heart 
and  of  the  imagination,  devotion,  poetry — all  are  puri- 
fied and  ennobled  by  love.  The  sinful  pleasures  of 
youth  religion  does  proscribe  ;  but  these  you  will  not 


VERNY  AND  R  OBER  TSON.  30 1 

regret.  The  youth  which  we  have  by  nature  soon 
withers  ;  beneath  it  lurks  a  secret  decrepitude,  some 
seed  of  death,  some  lie ;  it  is  but  an  imperfect  figure 
of  the  true  youth.  That  is  the  true  youth  which  love 
gives — the  infinite  love  of  God  and  of  our  brothers.  It 
does  not  fade  ;  it  is  renewed  every  morning  ;  it  bears 
each  day  flowers  of  heavenly  beauty  ;  and  when  the 
body  totters  and  the  mind  fails,  the  soul  remains  ever 
young — because  it  loves.  Selfishness  under  all  its 
forms, — the  absence  of  self-devotion,  the  pettiness 
of  a  life  which  makes  enjoyment  its  aim,  rather  than 
duty  ;  the  neglect  of  our  generous  instincts  ;  pleasures, 
even  the  highest,  such  as  the  pursuit  of  study,  when 
they  make  us  forget  that  our  great  concern  is  not  to 
live  for  ourselves  ;  everything  that  takes  away  the 
sense  of  the  solemnity  of  life  ;  everything  that  shuts 
us  up  within  ourselves,  and  makes  us  the  captives  of 
self-indulgence,  not  to  speak  of  those  excesses  and 
sins  which  are  reproved  of  all  :  selfishness,  in  a  word, 
under  whatever  name,  is  old  age  and  death.  Ah  ! 
I  have  proved  only  too  well  that  age  creeps  quickly 
on,  where  there  is  unfaithfulness  to  the  nobler  instincts ; 
but  thanks  to  Christianity,  all  that  narrows  the  heart, 
all  that  dries  it  up  and  takes  from  it  its  freshness,  its 
elasticity  and  generous  warmth,  is  resisted,  and  in  the 
end  fully  overcome.  For  myself,  I  feel  I  owe  it  to 
Christianity  alone  that  I  am  still  young  ;  without  it 
I  should  have  fallen  by  this  time  low  indeed." 

The  reader   will   now  easily  understand   how  the 


302  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

death  of  Lebre  called  forth  from  Verny  one  of  the 
noblest  efforts  of  his  eloquence.  He  touches  the 
bleeding  wounds  of  the  soul  that  has  passed  away 
with  a  tender  sympathy,  learnt  in  the  same  school  of 
suffering,  through  which  he  himself  had  recently  been 
brought. 

"And  now,  why  should  I  be  silent,"  says  the 
preacher,  "  on  the  subject  which  is  in  all  our  thoughts 
to-day,  and  which,  by  the  side  of  this  grave,  may  well 
appear  supremely  important  ?  This  faith  became 
beclouded.  You  know  the  demands,  the  doubts,  the 
conflicts  of  our  age :  it  would  be  childish  to  pretend 
to  ignore  them  ;  it  would  be  untrue  to  deny  their 
influence  and  weight.  More  than  one  of  the  historical 
pillars  on  which  Christianity  rested  has  been  shaken  ; 
more  than  one  of  the  formularies,  under  which  till  now 
it  has  passed  current  in  the  world,  has  failed  to  stand 
the  stern  ordeal  of  philosophic  thought,  or  to  verify 
itself  by  the  standard  of  a  true  exegesis.  We  must 
go  even  further.  I  say,  that  more  than  one  legitimate 
cry  of  unsatisfied  spiritual  need  rises  in  our  day,  to 
which  our  old  systems  seem  to  make  no  response,  to 
which  our  old  institutions  have  neither  succour  nor 
sympathy  to  offer.  Who  will  dare  to  pronounce  a 
sentence  of  sweeping  condemnation  on  all  these 
aspirations  and  efforts  ?  Who  will  dare  to  say  that 
all  these  movements,  without  distinction,  are  sinful  in 
their  origin,  that  the  love  of  truth,  of  the  truth  of  God 
and  of  His  kingdom,  has  no  place  in  them  ?  that  they 


VERNY  AND  ROBERTSON.  303 

are  not  signs  of  the  times,  signs  precursive  of  a  new 
spiritual  advent  of  the  Lord  ?  These  questions,  which 
superficial  minds  treat  as  trifles,  but  which  present  to 
deeper  thinkers  mysteries,  the  depths  of  which  they 
try  in  vain  to  sound,  laid  hold  of  the  mind  of  Lebre 
in  the  course  of  his  studies.  He  doubted.  Yes  ;  but 
with  a  sincere  doubt.  His  doubts  were  not  the  mere 
exercise  of  reason,  proud  and  cold  ;  nor  were  they 
the  sophistries  of  a  heart  impatient  of  the  holy  law 
of  God,  and  eager  to  give  free  course  to  its  passions. 
They  were  the  agonising  cry  of  his  soul  after  a  purer, 
more  powerful,  more  efficacious  light.  He  doubted. 
Yes  ;  but  his  doubt  was  a  hunger  and  thirst  after 
righteousness.  It  was  but  a  fortnight  yesterday  that 
he  poured  out  for  the  last  time,  to  the  friend  who  now 
renders  him  this  parting  service  of  love,  the  sorrows  of 
his  soul ;  and  how  can  I  better  sum  up  those  con- 
fidences, or  should  I  rather  say  those  unutterable 
groanings  of  his  spirit,  than  in  the  words  of  the 
Psalmist :  '  As  the  hart  panteth  after  the  water-brooks, 
so  panteth  my  soul  after  thee,  O  God.  My  soul 
thirsteth  for  God,  for  the  living  God.  When  shall  I 
come  and  appear  before  God  ? '  He  doubted.  Yes  ; 
but  his  doubt  has  received  the  consecration  of  suffering 
and  death.  His  nights  of  toil,  the  turmoil  of  his  brain, 
the  tumultuous  agitation  of  his  heart,  had  been  long 
spending  his  strength.  None  remained  to  contend 
with  his  last  sickness,  and  he  sank  under  it. 

"  Is  doubt  like  this  still  to  be  called  doubt  ?     It  is 


304  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

faith,  my  friends  ;  the  faith  of  those  who  pray,  '  Lord, 
I  believe  ;  help  thou  mine  unbelief.'  Here,  then,  for 
my  own  consolation  and  yours,  let  me  give  my  testi- 
mony that  the  faith  of  our  friend,  while  shaken  in 
some  of  its  expressions,  forms,  and  applications,  still 
remained  stedfast  in  its  secret  depths.  The  great 
travail  of  his  soul  was  to  find  a  form  more  in  harmony 
with  his  deep  faith.  The  grace  of  God  which  had 
received  him,  set  its  seal  upon  him,  and  to  the  very 
end  Lebre  bore  that  ineffaceable  impress.  He  loved. 
Love  was  the  life  of  his  heart  ;  love  to  God  and  man 
— the  love  which  forgets  and  renounces  self.  Is  not 
love  like  this  the  fruit  and  the  witness  of  the  truth  ? 
St.  Augustine  says  :  '  If  love  is  not  desired  with  all 
the  strength  of  the  soul,  it  is  absolutely  impossible  to 
be  found  ;  but,  when  it  is  sought  in  a  manner  worthy 
of  it,  it  can  never  be  missed  by  those  who  love  it.  It 
is  love  which  desires,  love  which  seeks,  love  which 
knocks  at  the  door,  love  which  reveals — love,  finally, 
which  abides  in  that  wh  h  is  revealed.'  Such  love 
dwelt  in  the  heart  of  our  friend  ;  it  was  in  this  loving 
spirit  that  he  yearned  after  and  sought  the  truth,  and 
had  he  lived,  this  same  love  would  have  crowned  his 
search  with  success.  And  that  love — never  did  I 
express  the  hope  with  a  more  joyful  confidence — that 
love  has  now  drawn  back  the  veil  that  hid  the  truth 
from  him,  and  has  satisfied  the  thirst  of  his  soul." 

Verny  could  apply  to  himself  that  which  he  said  of 
Lebre.     Only  in  his  case,  the  light  came  more  quickly. 


VERNY  AND  ROBERTSON.  305 

Though  still  somewhat  overcast,  like  all  earthly 
brightness,  it  yet  shone  clearly  enough  for  him  to  live 
and  die  by,  and  even  to  fulfil  his  work  as  a  preacher. 

We  find  in  all  Verny's  sermons  from  this  time,  a 
more  categorical  affirmation  of  the  great  facts  of 
revelation.  The  belief  in  the  supernatural  he  re- 
tained unimpaired;  indeed,  it  enters  into  his  very 
conception  of  Christianity  as  a  religion  of  liberty.  This 
is  admirably  expressed  in  his  sermons  on  the  religion 
of  nature,  and  the  religion  of  the  Spirit.  We  may  cite 
the  following  passage  : 

"  We  said  just  now,  in  speaking  of  the  personality 
of  God  and  of  His  absolute  freedom  in  the  work  of 
creation — this  is  essential.  In  the  same  way,  we  would 
say  here  of  the  eternal  pre-existence  of  the  Saviour, 
and  His  absolute  freedom  in  the  work  of  redemption — 
this  is  essential ;  for  if  sin  is  indeed  the  effect  of  such  a 
bondage  as  we  have  been  describing  ;  if,  as  the  Scrip- 
ture affirms,  and,  as  our  deepest  experience  teaches  us, 
it  is  transmitted  and  perpetuated  by  a  fatal  law ;  if 
every  sinful  action,  being  itself  the  result  of  ante- 
cedent sin,  becomes  in  its  turn  the  cause  of  fresh 
transgression  ;  if  every  generation  of  mankind,  being 
conceived  and  born  in  sin,  conceives  and  gives  birth 
in  its  turn  to  another  sinful  generation  ;  and  if  the 
Saviour  came  to  break  this  chain,  He  could  not  be 
Himself  a  mere  link  in  it.  In  order  to  grasp  it  with  a 
powerful  hand,  and  to  break  it  in  the  midst,  He  must 
occupy  a  position  outside  of  the  common  race  of  man, 

21 


306  CONTEMPORAR  Y  POR  TRAITS. 

and  must  draw  His  strength  from  a  higher  source.  If 
He  is  to  heal  the  diseased  tree  of  humanity,  He  must 
not  be  Himself  one  of  its  branches,  though  the 
strongest  and  fairest,  for  the  worm  is  at  the  root  of 
all.  He  must  not  be  an  out-growth  of  humanity  and 
of  history  ;  He  must  not  be  borne  along  without  any 
volition  of  His  own  on  the  stream  of  time,  with  those 
floods  that  sweep  away  the  generations  of  mankind. 
He  must  not  be,  like  one  of  us,  born  without  choice  of 
our  own  in  a  certain  age,  by  the  conditions  of  which 
our  lot  is  determined. 

"  No  !  He  must  make  a  new  beginning;  He  must 
be  the  Head  and  Father  of  a  new  humanity,  a  new 
history.  He  must  be,  as  St.  Paul  says,  '  the  second 
Adam.'  He  must  needs  come  freely,  because  He 
would,  and  solely  because  He  would." 

It  is  clear  that  Verny  does  not  regard  the  super- 
natural or  the  miraculous  as  the  mere  scaffolding  of 
the  Christian  building.  It  is,  in  his  view,  of  the  very 
essence  of  Christianity,  which,  being  a  religion  of 
redemption,  implies  a  sovereign  manifestation  of 
Divine  freedom,  in  order  to  break,  as  he  says,  the  iron 
chain  of  sin  and  its  consequences.  After  such  a 
declaration,  the  Radical  School  of  theology  must 
renounce  all  claim  to  Verny  as  in  any  degree  be- 
longing to  it,  since  its  cardinal  doctrine  is  the  nega- 
tion of  the  supernatural. 

Verny's  sermon  on  "  La  Religion  des  Faibles,"  gives 
us  the  ground  of  this  firm  belief  in  the  supernatural. 


VERNY  AND  ROBERTSON. 


307 


He  regards  humanity  as  verily  poor,  blind,  and  naked. 
Evil  is  not  a  mere  phase,  it  is  a  mortal  sickness  of  the 
soul ;  and  his  heart  cries  out  for  pardon  and  restoration. 
Jesus  Christ  is  not  to  him,  therefore,  simply  the  model 
of  perfection,  the  bringer-in  of  the  true  religion.  He 
is  also  Himself  the  object  of  that  religion,  the  Son  of 
God  who  has  brought  life  anew  to  the  world  ;  in  a 
word,  He  is  the  Saviour.  Verny  speaks  of  Him  with 
holy  emotion,  with  ardent  enthusiasm,  in  tones  of 
adoration,  in  which  we  seem  to  catch  the  deep  utter- 
ance of  his  heart  rather  than  any  formal  ascription  of 
praise.  His  sermons  have  the  true  ring  of  evangelical 
piety.  They  are  in  harmony  with  the  great  chorus  of 
the  Church  universal. 

On  one  point  Verny's  preaching  seems  to  me 
inadequate.  It  would,  indeed,  ill  become  me  to  con- 
demn him  by  the  standard  of  traditional  orthodoxy 
on  the  doctrine  of  redemption.  It  does  appear  to  me, 
however,  that  he  did  not  sufficiently  recognise  how 
completely  the  relation  of  humanity  to  God  has  been 
changed  by  the  sacrifice  of  the  cross.  He  regards  it 
rather  as  a  sublime  and  overwhelming  proof  of  the  love 
of  God,  than  as  the  redemption  of  our  souls.  He 
says :  "  It  was  to  the  life  that  man  had  lost  by  his  own 
fault,  in  which  he  could  not  reinstate  himself  by  his 
own  efforts,  for  which  he  had  no  longer  either  will  or 
desire,  that  God  in  His  mercy  would  recall  him.  For 
this  purpose  it  was  that  He  sent  to  men  the  Son  of  His 
love,  the  Son  who  is  one  with  the  Father,  and  who, 


308  CONTEMPORAR  V  FOR  TRAITS. 

like  the  Father,  has  within  Himself  the  fulness  of  the 
Divine  life.  He  sent  Him  that  men,  seeing  Him, 
might  be  re-awakened  to  think  of,  and  aim  to  fulfil 
their  original  destiny  ;  that,  as  they  beheld  His  obedi- 
ence in  suffering,  even  to  the  death  of  the  cross, 
His  participation  in  all  the  sorrows  of  sinful  humanity, 
they  might  have  in  Him  a  certain  pledge  that,  in  spite 
of  their  transgressions,  they  were  not  for  ever  excluded 
from  their  ancient  heritage.  Finally,  that  by  accepting 
this  pledge,  embracing  Christ,  cleaving  to  Him, 
entering  into  communion  with  Him  by  faith,  they 
might  be  brought  back  into  fellowship  with  the 
Father  and  with  the  life  of  the  Father." 

It  would  be  unfair  to  take  this  passage  as  a 
summary  of  Verny's  views,  or  to  look  in  a  sermon 
for  the  exactness  of  a  theological  formulary. 

The  deficiency,  to  which  we  have  alluded,  is  one 
which  Verny  would  very  probably  have  supplied,  had 
he  treated  exhaustively  that  great  subject  which  has 
called  forth  so  much  discussion  in  more  recent  times. 
It  cannot  be  denied,  however,  that  he  went  too  far  in 
his  reaction  against  the  tendency  to  confound  religion 
with  theology.  He  was  abundantly  justified  when 
he  appealed  to  the  history  of  religious  thought,  in  our 
own  time  alone,  as  conclusive  against  such  a  system, 
and  asked  whether  the  partisans  of  an  implacable 
orthodoxy  would  put  out  of  the  Church  such  men  as 
Neander  and  Nitzch.  He  was  equally  right  in  his 
protest  against  the  claim  to  identify  the  doctrine  with 


VERNY  AND  ROBERTSON.  309 

the  life,  as  if  piety  had  but  one  side,  and  as  if  there 
might  not  be  blessed  incongruities,  so  that  a  Chris- 
tian heart  might  be  beating  where  we  should  little 
have  expected  it. 

We  fully  endorse  the  saying,  quoted  by  him  in  his 
sermon  at  the  Pastoral  Conferences  in  Paris,  in  the 
year  1846  :  "There  is  a  faith  which  saves,  but  there 
is  no  dogmatism  which  saves."  He  failed,  however, 
to  define  with  sufficient  distinctness,  apart  from  all 
human  systems,  what  is  that  saving  faith  which  is  the 
essence  of  Christianity.  He  calls  it  the  life  of  God — 
life  eternal.  This  is  true  ;  but  that  life  requires  cer- 
tain conditions,  without  which  it  vanishes  away.  It 
is  based  upon  positive  facts  ;  its  essential  feature  is  a 
great  miracle,  wrought  by  the  Son  of  God  who  "  died 
for  our  sins,  and  rose  again  for  our  justification." 
These  facts  and  miracles  are  the  foundation  of  Verny's 
preaching — they  are  its  constant  theme.  Why  not 
lay  it  down,  then,  as  a  settled  point,  that  these  are 
above  all  dogmatisms  and  systems  ;  that  they  belong 
not  to  theology,  but  to  religion  ?  "  I  know  well,  in- 
deed," said  Verny,  "  that  there  is  a  point  at  which  we 
must  stop.  He  who  believes  not  that  life  is  come 
into  the  world  in  Jesus  Christ  ;  he  who  thinks  he  can 
go  to  the  Father  otherwise  than  by  the  Son  ;  in  a 
word,  he  who  confesses  not  Jesus  Christ,  the  Son  of 
the  living  God,  is  not  a  Christian.  But  this  point  we 
cannot  yet  fix  ;  we  are  still  too  much  in  the  strife  of 
words    and  of  parties."     I    think  that,  even   at  that 


310  CONTEMPORARY  PORTRAITS. 

time,  it  was  possible  to  define  this  capital  point  of 
Christianity,  and  that  practically  Verny  did  so  in  all 
his  preaching.  Might  he  not  still  say  to-day  that  we 
are  in  the  midst  of  disputes  of  words  and  parties,  when 
an  entire  section  of  the  Protestant  Church  maintains 
that  Jesus,  instead  of  being  "  the  way,  the  truth,  and 
the  life,"  is  only  a  pattern,  a  teacher  ;  the  type,  and 
not  the  object  of  religious  worship  ?  Verny  would 
have  maintained  to-day,  as  he  did  twenty  years  ago, 
the  claims  of  religious  science  and  its  legitimate 
rights  ;  but  he  would  also  have  said,  as  we  say,  that 
Christian  theology  implies  Christianity,  and  that 
Christianity,  without  the  supernatural  element,  which 
it  has  so  stedfastly  affirmed,  has  lost  all  its  specific 
character.  The  counsels  of  broad  comprehension  which 
Verny  gave  in  1843,  as  the  sovereign  remedy  for 
the  divisions  of  the  Protestant  Churches,  would 
have  quite  another  significance  in  an  age  when  the 
very  foundations  of  the  most  elementary  faith  are 
overthrown.  Even  at  that  time  they  were  exagger- 
ated ;  but,  to  do  them  justice,  we  must  bear  in  mind 
the  exaggerations  in  the  opposite  direction,  which  had 
to  be  refuted  before  it  was  possible  to  make  any  pro- 
gress whatever  in  the  study  of  theology. 

I  do  not  question  that  it  was  his  anxiety  to  secure 
the  largest  possible  liberty  to  Christian  thought, 
which  made  Verny,  for  a  time,  the  determined  oppo- 
nent of  the  great  principle  of  the  severance  of  Church 
and  State.     He  was  afraid  of  premature  action  at  a 


VERNY  AND  R  OBER  TSON.  3 1 1 

time  when  men's  minds  were  so  unsettled.  He 
preferred  to  keep  the  boundaries  of  the  Church 
still  undefined,  and  to  receive  into  it  a  mixed  mul- 
titude, whom  he  hoped  to  leaven  gradually  by  the 
influence  of  true  teaching,  rather  than  by  a  strict 
definition  of  doctrines  to  separate  the  heterogeneous 
elements.  On  this  point  he  was  mistaken,  as  the 
course  of  events  only  too  clearly  proved.  But  his 
great  mind  was  not  long  held  in  the  bonds  of  a  preju- 
dice unworthy  of  it.  The  course  taken  by  events  in 
1848  led  him  to  abandon  his  theory  of  national 
religions,  though  he  did  not  see  it  his  duty  to  break 
with  the  Church  to  which  he  belonged.  This  he  him- 
self stated  to  me  in  unmistakable  terms.  He  showed 
himself  uniformly  one  of  the  most  faithful  and 
ardent  defenders  of  religious  liberty.  The  indepen- 
dence of  the  Church  in  relation  to  the  civil  authority 
was  with  him  a  fundamental  principle.  I  remember 
well  the  hot  indignation  with  which  he  stigmatised 
the  famous  decrees  which,  in  1852,  gave  to  the  estab- 
lished Protestant  Church  a  new  organisation,  about 
which  it  had  not  been  properly  consulted.  "  No  one 
is  satisfied,"  he  said  to  me,  "  except  those  who  think  of 
nothing  but  eating  and  drinking."  These  words  had,  in 
truth,  a  wider  application  than  to  the  recent  arbitrary 
decision  in  ecclesiastical  matters  ;  they  characterised 
the  entire  system  and  prevailing  state  of  mind  in  a 
country  worn-out  with  repeated  struggles  for  liberty, 
and  ready  to  seek  repose  in  a  state  of  sluggish  ac- 


312  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

quiescence.  Verny  denounced,  in  terms  of  un- 
measured reproach,  the  promoters  of  the  re-organisa- 
tion of  the  Church  by  means  of  the  civil  power. 
"  Even  in  Russia,"  he  said,  "  if  a  poor  cure  had  pre- 
pared in  the  dark  such  a  clandestine  blow,  he  would 
have  been  overwhelmed  with  indignant  protestations." 
The  vehement  orator  was  careful  to  add,  that  he  meant 
nothing  personal,  but  the  dart  remained  none  the  less 
rankling  in  the  wound. 

Verny  has  not  anywhere  given  a  full  exposition  of 
his  theological  views.  Apart  from  the  distinction 
between  theology  and  religion,  between  dogmatism 
and  faith,  on  which  he  constantly  insists,  he  contents 
himself  with  a  broad  and  admirable  exposition  of  the 
great  truths  of  the  faith,  dwelling  largely  upon  the 
spirituality  and  high  morality  of  the  gospel,  and 
combating  Pharisaism  under  all  its  disguises.  Freedom 
of  action  in  God  and  in  man  is  one  of  the  points  to 
which  he  attaches  most  importance,  in  an  age  in- 
clined to  a  pantheistic  philosophy.  He  never  repre- 
sents pardon  as  the  sum  of  salvation.  To  him, 
salvation  is  the  coming  back  to,  and  possessing  God. 
He  is  consumed  with  this  holy  longing ;  and  it  is  at 
the  foot  of  the  cross  that  he  finds  the  ever-flowing 
spring  of  eternal  life.  There  is  an  intense  earnestness 
about  all  his  words.  He  believes  firmly  in  the  funda- 
mental harmony  between  the  needs  of  the  soul  and 
the  gospel — a  harmony  constantly  broken  by  sin,  but 
restored   by  Jesus    Christ.     His   noble  sermon,  "  La 


VERNY  AND  ROBERTSON.  313 

prophetie  de  la  conscience,"  is  a  model  of  sound 
apology.  It  breathes  the  very  spirit  of  Pascal  and 
Vinet.  His  views  on  inspiration  are  remarkable  for 
their  breadth,  yet  they  do  not  detract  anything  from 
the  authority  of  Scripture,  which,  like  that  of  the 
Divine  Master  has  nothing  in  common  with  the 
pretensions  of  the  Scribes  and  Pharisees. 

It  would  be  difficult  to  speak  too  strongly  of  Verny's 
merits  as  a  preacher,  though  he  never  rose  to  the  very 
highest  rank  of  pulpit  oratory.  His  was  not  the 
splendid  and  impassioned eloquenceof  AdolpheMonod, 
nor  the  inexhaustible  fulness  of  Vinet ;  but  his  qualities 
were  nevertheless  of  rare  eminence.  His  language, 
without  being  too  ornate,  was  always  brilliant  and 
full  of  life,  altogether  free  from  conventionalism,  and 
characterised  by  a  strong  and  manly  simplicity.  In 
his  sermons  we  find  instruction  and  edification  admir- 
ably combined.  The  thinker  was  faithfully  mirrored 
in  the  preacher.  All  his  sermons,  though  free  from 
technical  formalities,  were  based  upon  a  solid  exegesis, 
the  thoughts  being  linked  closely  together  by  a 
natural  chain  of  argument.  But  over  this  substantial 
framework  was  spread  a  strong  and  brilliant  fabric 
dexterously  wrought  of  many  colours.  This  is  the 
secret  of  all  true  preaching.  The  preacher  must 
come  into  close  contact  with  his  subject,  grasping  it 
with  all  his  force,  or  he  will  be  sure  to  fall  into  endless 
and  wearisome  repetitions,  and  into  meditations  which 
are  such  in  name  only.     Preaching,  which  is  mediocre 


3  H  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

through  the  mere  negligence  of  the  preacher,  is  painful 
enough  to  hear;  but  it  becomes  a  solemn  mockery 
when  the  special  sanction  of  the  Holy  Spirit  is 
invoked  upon  it.  It  is  generally  under  this  form  of 
an  appeal  to  direct  inspiration,  that  indolence  grants 
itself  a  plenary  indulgence.  It  ought  to  be  well  aware, 
that  only  a  few  good  souls  accept  the  same  view  of  it, 
and  that  it  is  answerable  before  God  for  all  the  ennui 
which  becomes  thus  associated  with  holy  things. 

The  sermons  of  Verny,  which  have  been  published 
collectively,  are  perhaps  rather  edifying  than  consoling. 
They  rarely  appeal  to  the  feelings.  The  sorrows  of  the 
heart — those  only  excepted  which  arise  out  of  the 
earnest  search  after  truth — are  allowed  little  place 
in  them.  Must  we  gather  that  the  great  preacher 
was  disposed  to  take  his  stand  among  the  optimists  of 
the  Church  ?  Nothing  could  be  farther  from  the  truth. 
If  the  minor  key  is  seldom  heard  in  these  sermons, 
this  is  accounted  for  by  the  choice  of  subjects.  No 
one  had  more  earnest  aspirations  than  Verny  after 
the  realisation  of  that  high  ideal  of  holiness  and  love, 
which  Christianity  holds  up  before  us.  All  who  were 
present  at  the  Pastoral  Conferences  in  Paris,  in  the 
year  185 1,  can  bear  witness  to  this.  Verny  proposed 
as  the  subject  for  discussion:  "The  interval  which 
exists  between  the  gospel  law  and  the  Christian  life  of 
our  days."  Never  in  the  pulpit  or  elsewhere  did  I  hear 
him  speak  with  more  power  than  on  this  occasion. 
It  was   more  than  eloquence,  it  was  a  sublime  out- 


VERNY  AND  ROBERTSON.  3r5 

pouring  of  the  Christian  conscience.  He  rebuked 
with  terrible  irony,  not  sparing  himself,  all  our  incon- 
sistencies, our  moral  cowardice,  the  poverty  of  our 
dwarfed,  cautious,  worldly  piety,  which  has  nothing  of 
the  grandeur  of  self-sacrifice,  which  has  forgotten  what 
heroism  with  its  divine  follies  means.  He  showed 
how  fatally  easy  it  is  to  speak  of  the  cross,  to  exalt  it 
without  knowing  what  it  is  to  bear  it ;  and  to  enlarge 
in  a  facile  way  on  the  austere  morality,  the  very  essence 
of  which  is  the  offering  up  of  selfish  ease.  He  asked 
where  are  now  to  be  found  those  extraordinary  voca- 
tions, which  reveal  the  Spirit  of  God  moving  over  the 
sluggish  waters  of  our  existence,  and  preventing  our 
religious  life  from  becoming  a  mere  routine.  He  dwelt 
upon  the  great  duties  of  Christians  towards  the  poor, 
the  sacred  legacy  of  Christ  to  the  Church,  which  she 
has  not  truly  accepted  till  she  has  emptied  herself  to 
clothe  the  naked  and  to  feed  the  hungry.  I  can  only 
reproduce  in  cold  outline,  that  which  Verny  poured 
forth  with  burning  eloquence  that  day,  when  the  depths 
of  his  spirit  were  stirred  within  him.  No  sermon 
ever  touched  me  so  much,  or  made  me  feel  more  self- 
condemned.  Nor  did  I  ever  see  that  assembly,  com- 
posed of  such  various  elements,  so  moved  as  by  one 
impulse,  and  lifted  for  the  moment  to  such  a  height 
as  to  lose  sight  of  its  habitual  differences.  To  all  who 
were  present  this  was  a  moment  never  to  be  forgotten. 
All  Verny's  great  qualities  as  a  Christian  and  as  a 
pastor,  are  conspicuous  in  his  last  sermon  preached 


3 1 6  CONTEMPORA  R  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

before  the  higher  Consistory  at  Strasburg.  It  was 
never  finished,  for  he  died  in  the  pulpit  like  a  valiant 
soldier  standing  in  the  breach.  With  what  breadth 
of  view  he  described  the  Church,  which  he  regarded 
not  as  some  magical  institution,  existing  apart  from  the 
living  faith  of  its  members,  but  as  a  holy  society  of 
men,  united  by  the  same  faith,  hope  and  love,  that 
they  might  have  a  fellowship  of  feeling  and  of  action, 
of  repentance  and  worship,  of  joy  and  sorrow  ;  but, 
above  all,  that  they  might  carry  on  the  work  of 
salvation  among  their  fellowmen.  With  deep  feeling 
he  dwelt  on  the  motive  which  urges  all  Christians  to 
activity,  the  same  compassion  which  "  made  the  eye  of 
Jesus  fill  with  tears,  whenever  He  thought  of  the 
multitudes  scattered  abroad  as  sheep  having  no  shep- 
herd." "If  ever,"  he  went  on,  "the  Church  should 
descend  to  the  level  of  a  popular  institution,  instead 
of  being  an  argument  in  favour  of  the  truth  of  God,  it 
would  become  a  hindrance  to  the  power  of  the  gospel. 
Instead  of  forcing  men  to  cry,  '  See  how  these  Chris- 
tians love  one  another,'  it  would  lead  them  to 
exclaim,  '  See  how  worldly  and  carnal  they  have 
become  !  ":  I  know  few  passages  finer  than  those  in 
which  Verny  dwells  on  the  good  and  the  evil  which 
may  be  the  hidden  motives  of  our  religious  activity. 
He  shows  us  the  evil  spirit  that  may  be  disguised 
beneath  "  the  doctor's  hood,  or  the  pastoral  vestment  ; 
that  may  creep  into  the  academic  desk,  whether 
orthodox  or  heterodox — a  spirit   sometimes  sombre, 


VERNY  AND  ROBERTSON.  317 

sometimes  sardonic,  petrifying  holy  things  in  cut 
and  dried  formularies,  or  seasoning  them  with  insipid 
pleasantries.  This  spirit  mounts  the  pulpit  stair 
behind  the  preacher,  and  whispers  in  his  ear  to  say 
nothing  that  may  startle  his  hearers,  to  play  on  their 
feelings  rather  than  on  their  conscience,  to  preach  to 
please  men  rather  than  God."  It  was  just  as  the 
preacher  was  describing,  in  living  characters,  the  good 
spirit — the  spirit  of  love,  of  faith,  of  devotedness  ;  the 
spirit  which  makes  us  realise  the  kingdom  of  God 
upon  earth,  in  humiliation,  in  poverty,  in  oppression, 
it  may  be,  but  with  the  certainty  that  by-and-by  we 
shall  realise  it  in  the  excellent  glory,  the  eternal 
blessedness  of  the  presence  of  Christ  in  heaven — it 
was  at  this  moment  that  he  fell  as  if  struck  by  light- 
ning, caught  away  from  those  who  loved  him,  from 
the  Church,  from  his  sphere  of  invaluable  service,  by 
that  sovereign  and  mysterious  will,  which  teaches  us 
by  such  providences,  that  God  is  not  dependent  even 
on  His  most  faithful  servants. 

We  may  well  believe  that  had  Verny  lived,  he 
would  have  been  led,  without  abandoning  his  true 
liberality,  to  take  a  more  decided  attitude  in  relation 
to  the  negative  school  of  our  day,  which  is  as  daring 
in  speculative,  as  it  is  cautious  in  practical  matters. 
He  would  have  rejoiced  in  the  noble  efforts  of  the 
Lutheran  Church  in  the  sphere  of  practical  activity 
and  philanthropy,  while  he  could  never  have  approved 
that  rigid  adherence  to  old  confessions  which  would 


3 1 8  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRA ITS. 

make  the  Reformation  a  lifeless  mummy,  instead  of  a 
principle  of  progress  and  perpetual  rejuvenescence 
— that  is  to  say,  a  Reformation  continually  carried  on. 


II. 

The  life  of  Robertson  presents  the  same  features  of 
spiritual  conflict  as  that  of  Verny,  only  intensified  by 
the  greater  force  and  fervour  of  his  nature.  The  in- 
fluence of  Robertson  increases  every  day ;  he  stands 
acknowledged  as  one  of  the  greatest  minds  of  the 
age,  and  as  the  happy  exponent  of  its  best  aspira- 
tions. His  theology  is  not  exempt  from  the  imper- 
fections of  a  transition  period.  It  should  rather  be 
regarded  as  representing  in  its  noblest  phase  an  era 
of  deep  religious  agitation.  Robertson's  was  one  of 
those  intense  and  ardent  souls  which  seem  to  bring 
to  a  focus  all  the  scattered  rays  in  the  surrounding 
atmosphere.  By  this  concentrated  light  we  learn  to 
read  not  only  the  man,  but  the  age  ;  hence  the  pecu- 
liar interest  attaching  to  such  lives.  The  biography 
of  Robertson  by  Mr.  Brooke  opens  to  us  a  delightful 
study  of  character.  It  is  rich  in  extracts  from  the 
correspondence  of  the  great  preacher,  and  reveals 
throughout  the  heart  and  hand  of  a  true  friend.  We 
shall  endeavour  to  characterise  first  the  man,  and  then 
his  style  and  method  as  a  writer  and  preacher. 

Frederick     Robertson   was    born    in    London,  on 
February  3rd,  18 16.     His  early  wish  was  to  follow  his 


VERNY  AND  ROBERTSON.  319 

father's  profession,  and  enter  the  army.  This  was 
more  than  a  mere  childish  fancy  for  a  red  coat. 
His  energetic  nature  made  him  eager  for  a  course 
of  manly  activity  and  noble  peril.  His  desire 
was  on  the  point  of  being  fulfilled,  for  his  com- 
mission as  a  cavalry  officer  reached  him  a  few  days 
after  he  had  entered  at  Oxford.  This  step  had  been 
taken  by  him,  not  only  in  obedience  to  the  will  of  his 
father,  but  also  under  a  higher  impulse,  which  coin- 
cided with  deep  religious  impressions.  The  sacrifice, 
however,  was  very  great  ;  and  he  retained  through 
life  a  deep  and  settled  regret  that  he  had  not  been 
able  to  follow  his  first  choice.  His  University  course 
was  not  brilliant.  His  individuality  was  too  strongly 
marked  for  him  to  reap  the  fruits  of  rapid  culture  ; 
he  came  slowly  to  maturity.  Depth  is  usually  incom- 
patible with  brilliant  facility  at  the  decisive  age  of 
moral  and  intellectual  development.  He  appears, 
however,  to  have  profited  largely  by  the  noble  clas- 
sical studies  which  are  the  glory  of  England.  To 
these  he  owed  the  strength  and  vigour  of  his  style. 
Plato,  the  poet  of  metaphysics,  the  philosopher  of  the 
ideal,  and  Aristotle,  the  incomparable  analyst  and 
master  of  severe  dialectics,  were  his  favourite  classic 
authors.  The  influence  of  both  is  traceable  in  his 
sermons,  in  which  a  subtle  psychology  is  clothed 
in  images  of  singular  beauty.  At  Oxford  he  led  a 
very  secluded  and  serious  life.  His  piety  was  deep 
and  fervent ;  but  he  had  not  as  yet  formed  any  theo- 


320  CONTEMPORAR  Y  POR  TRAITS. 

logical  opinions  of  his  own.  He  had  accepted  with- 
out questioning  the  current  doctrines  of  English 
evangelicalism,  and  preached  them  with  scrupulous 
fidelity  during  the  early  years  of  his  ministry  at 
Winchester.  It  was  under  this  form  that  eternal 
truth  had  been  first  apprehended  by  him,  and  he  had 
not  as  yet  separated  the  form  from  the  substance. 
We  shall  see  how  severe  was  the  struggle  in  which  he 
at  length  shook  off  the  yoke  of  strict  orthodoxy.  In 
order  to  understand  aright  this  crisis  in  his  life,  we 
must  take  a  rapid  survey  of  that  English  evangeli- 
calism which  exerted  at  the  time  so  great  an  influ- 
ence, and  won  such  wide  and,  to  a  large  extent,  well 
deserved  respect.  When,  in  connection  with  the 
peculiar  views  of  this  religious  party,  we  consider  the 
intellectual  and  moral  idiosyncrasies  of  Robertson,  we 
shall  easily  understand  how  inevitable  was  the  re- 
version of  feeling  and  opinion  which  cost  him  so 
much  suffering. 

English  evangelicalism  was  born  of  the  great  re- 
awakening of  faith  and  piety  which,  at  the  close  of 
the  last  century,  shook  off  the  lethargy  of  the  Church, 
and  told  with  powerful  effect  upon  the  prevailing 
infidelity  of  the  age.  The  severe  struggle  against 
Napoleon,  in  which  England  was  engaged  for  so 
many  years,  had  also  an  influence  favourable  to  the 
revival  of  serious  religion.  The  impulse  thus  given 
produced  magnificent  results.  The  great  evangelical 
and    missionary   societies,   among  which   the   British 


VERNY  AND  R OBER TSON.  32 1 

and  Foreign  Bible  Society  occupies  the  first  rank, 
were  founded  within  a  few  years,  and  wrought  won- 
ders, not  the  least  of  which  was  the  inexhaustible 
generosity  by  which  these  noble  efforts  were  sus- 
tained. Unhappily,  this  great  progressive  movement 
took  a  practical  direction  only,  and  was  not  accom- 
panied, as  in  the  Reformation  of  the  sixteenth  cen- 
tury, by  a  deep  and  powerful  impetus  in  the  domain 
of  thought.  Hence  it  led,  in  the  main  at  least,  to  a 
lamentable  theological  narrowness,  which  only  in- 
creased as  the  first  fervour  of  the  Revival  died 
away. 

It  would  be  unjust  to  bring  home  this  charge  in- 
discriminately to  all  the  eminent  men  who  lent  their 
support  to  the  cause  of  evangelicalism.  We  could 
easily  refer  to  writings  issuing  from  that  school 
which  breathe  a  more  liberal  spirit,  to  preachers  and 
influential  laymen,  who  were  distinguished  for  a  wise 
and  healthy  tolerance  of  diversity.  But,  while  we 
would  carefully  guard  against  the  injustice  of  passing 
a  sweeping  condemnation  without  exception,  it  can- 
not be  denied  that  the  prevailing  doctrinal  type  in 
what  was  called  the  Low  Church  (for  we  speak  of  this 
only)  was  singularly  cramped  and  meagre.  It  bor- 
rowed all  that  was  most  dogmatic  in  the  confessions 
of  the  Reformation  period,  without  reproducing  the 
logical  vigour  and  theological  breadth  of  the  sixteenth 
century.  The  Low  Church  theology  took  cognisance 
only  of  immediate  practical  results,  and  made  no  pro- 


322  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

vision    for  the  demands   of  speculative   or  contemn 
plative  minds. 

It  was  like  the  over-busy  Martha,  unable  to  com- 
prehend the  pre-occupied  Mary,  who  sat  at  the 
Master's  feet  and  heard  His  word.  Hence  the  severe 
judgment  passed  by  orthodox  England  upon  Protest- 
ant Germany,  which  she  always  suspected  of  heresy, 
and  whose  science  and  philosophy  awakened  scruples 
and  suspicions,  even  before  they  had  led  to  any  dan- 
gerous result.  Simple  faith,  said  the  English  evan- 
gelicals, did  not  concern  itself  with  all  these  things. 
It  was  content  with  the  good,  sound  doctrine  which 
it  had  received  in  the  religious  Revival,  and  was 
absorbed  in  its  propagation.  This  good  and  sound 
doctrine  unquestionably  contained  the  essential  truths 
of  Christianity:  hence  it  was  accompanied  with  a 
sincere  earnestness,  and  did  a  vast  amount  of  good, 
as  we  ourselves  should  be  the  first  to  own.  But  it 
presented  these  truths  under  a  very  imperfect  and 
inadequate  form,  and  it  made  the  mistake  of  con- 
founding this  form  with  the  gospel  itself.  It  went  on, 
therefore,  to  proscribe  all  free  inquiry  which  did  not 
coincide  in  its  results  with  the  credo  of  the  Church. 
Hence  it  formed  a  Church  which  was,  on  a  small  scale, 
a  garbled  copy  of  the  Church  of  Rome,  claiming  in- 
fallibility in  fact,  though  not  in  name,  and  equally 
ready  with  its  excommunications  and  denunciations. 
This  credo,  of  which  there  was  no  recognised  formu- 
lary, but  which  formed  the  basis  of  all  the  utterances 


VERNY  AND  ROBERTSON.  323 

of  the  Low  Church  party,  may  be  described  in  a  few 
words. 

The  plenary  and  literal  inspiration  of  Scripture  ; 
expiation  by  the  sufferings  of  the  Son  of  God,  en- 
during all  the  pains  of  hell  in  our  stead  ;  the  imputa- 
tion, purely  external,  of  the  sacrifice  of  the  cross  by  a 
faith  doctrinal  rather  than  mystical  ;  Sabbatarianism 
of  the  strictest  type  ;  and,  as  the  top-stone  of  the  sys- 
tem, the  predestination  of  a  small  number  of  elect 
souls,  and  the  often  morbid  development  of  millenna- 
rian  views  —  this  was  the  framework  of  evangeli- 
calism, animated  and  warmed,  for  the  most  part, 
by  a  noble  piety,  but  always  and  everywhere  insisted 
upon  as  the  Alpha  and  Omega  of  Christianity. 

To  deviate  from  this  was  to  break  with  the  great 
tradition  of  orthodoxy,  which,  it  was  asserted,  had 
been  handed  down  from  the  earliest  ages  of  Christi- 
anity. That  which  the  evangelicals  preached  was 
emphatically  salvation  by  a  doctrine.  Heaven  must 
be  seen  through  this  narrow  loophole,  or  the  soul  was 
declared  to  be  in  darkness,  alienated  from  the  divine 
life,  and  an  object  of  distrust  and  suspicion. 

The  evangelical  school  was,  we  repeat,  admirable  in 
its  practical  Christianity;  it  cannot  fail  to  command  our 
respect  as  we  watch  its  operation  in  country  parishes, 
or  among  men  and  women  animated  with  the  purest 
zeal  in  winning  souls  for  Christ,  and  indefatigable  in 
their  efforts  to  relieve  the  sufferings  of  their  fellow- 
men.     Far  be  it  from  us  to  pronounce  s^uch  sweeping 


324  CONTEMPORARY  PORTRAITS, 

condemnation  upon  the  evangelicals  as  they  are  ever 
ready  to  pronounce  upon  others.  But  we  need  not 
extend  the  same  forbearance  to  the  violent  and  bitter 
organs  of  this  school  in  the  religious  press,  nor  can  we 
justify  in  any  degree  those  intolerant  polemics  which 
merely  denounce  all  that  in  any  way  runs  counter  to 
their  prejudices  ;  or  approve  the  clamour  raised  in 
excited  religious  meetings,  where  the  remonstrances 
of  conscience  are  drowned  in  party  cries.  It  is  neces- 
sary for  us  to  note  this  harsh  and  haughty  attitude 
assumed  by  some  of  the  leaders  of  the  party,  in  order 
that  we  may  do  justice  to  the  reaction  provoked  by 
it.  Their  ignorance  was  on  a  par  with  their  vehe- 
mence. One  of  the  most  eminent  representatives  of 
strict  English  orthodoxy,  was  one  day  branding  in 
the  most  severe  terms  the  whole  modern  theology  of 
Germany,  in  the  presence  of  the  illustrious  Tholuck. 
He  quietly  asked  if  the  speaker  was  acquainted  with 
German  theology  except  by  hearsay.  The  reply  was 
a  frank  avowal  that  he  knew  nothing  of  that  which  he 
so  severely  condemned,  and  a  confession  of  the  un- 
fairness of  such  a  judgment.  A  similar  act  of  humili- 
ation would  well  become  the  columns  of  the  Record 
and  many  another  blatant  organ  of  the  same  opinions. 
It  will  be  easily  understood  how  this  blending  of 
intolerance  and  ignorance  on  the  highest  and  most 
legitimate  themes  of  Christian  thought,  would  be 
likely  to  exasperate  beyond  measure  young  and 
generous  minds,  to  make  them  impatient  of  all  human 


VERNY  AND  ROBERTSON.  325 

systems,  and  disgusted  with  the  odium  theologicum 
which  would  vent  its  spleen  in  such  narrow  judgments. 
If  we  now  look  at  Robertson  as  he  was  when  he 
entered  on  the  clerical  office,  we  shall  see  at  once 
that  it  could  not  be  long  before  the  ties  which  bound 
him  to  the  evangelical  party  would  be  broken.  He 
had  accepted  the  first  system  of  vital  Christianity 
which  presented  itself  to  him,  but  he  had  accepted  it, 
as  a  whole,  without  careful  examination.  He  had 
simply  laid  hold  of  the  saving  truths  which  it  con- 
tained. The  germ  of  a  higher  spiritual  development 
was  already  implanted  within  him.  His  mind, 
enamoured  of  Plato  and  Aristotle,  took  a  speculative 
turn,  and  he  necessarily  applied  this  powerful  ana- 
lytical instrument  to  traditional  beliefs.  His  fondness 
for  speculative  and  metaphysical  studies  might  have 
become  a  snare  to  him,  if  the  moral  principle  had  not 
been  at  the  same  time  so  vigorous.  It  was  this  which 
soon  made  the  narrowness  of  orthodoxy  intolerable  to 
him.  On  the  day  of  his  consecration  (July  12,  1840) 
all  present  noticed  how  pale  and  trembling  he  was. 
His  was  not  one  of  those  self-satisfied  natures,  which 
lightly  take  up  the  burden  of  the  ministry,  with  the 
formulary  on  their  lips  that  divine  grace  is  all-suf- 
ficient. It  is,  indeed,  all-sufficient,  but  only  where 
the  whole  heart  is  surrendered  to  its  influence.  "  Cor 
meurn  sicut  immolatum  tibi  offei'o?  This,  which  was 
Calvin's  motto,  might  truly  be  said  to  be  Robertson's 
also..     He  writes  at  this   period  :    "  Every  day  con- 


326  CONTEMPORARY  PORTRAITS. 

vinces  me  more  and  more  that  there  is  one  thing,  and 
but  one,  on  earth  worth  living  for — and  that  is,  to  do 
God's  work  and  gradually  grow  in  conformity  to  His 
image,  by  mortification,  and  self-denial,  and  prayer."  l 

Robertson  knew  the  secret  sorrows  of  soul  conflict, 
and  he  adopted  voluntarily  ascetic  habits  of  life  as  a 
process  of  self-discipline.  We  find  in  his  journal  the 
following  prayer,  in  which  all  others  centred  :  "  Bring 
into  captivity  every  thought  to  the  obedience  of  Christ. 
Take  what  I  cannot  give — my  heart,  body,  thoughts, 
time,  abilities,  money,  health,  strength,  nights,  days, 
youth,  age — and  spend  them  in  Thy  service,  O  my 
crucified  Master,  Redeemer,  God  !  Oh,  let  not  these 
be  mere  words !  Whom  have  I  in  heaven  but  Thee  ? 
And  there  is  none  upon  earth  that  I  desire  in  com- 
parison of  Thee.  My  heart  is  athirst  for  God,  for  the 
living  God.  When  shall  I  come  and  appear  before 
God?  "2 

It  was  in  this  spirit  that  he  passed  the  first  year  of  his 
ministry,  devoting  himself  unreservedly  to  the  duties 
of  his  office.  The  consciousness  of  his  shortcomings, 
in  view  of  the  ideal  he  had  set  before  himself,  was 
often  so  overpowering  that  he  longed  to  die,  though 
he  was  deeply  beloved  by  his  flock,  especially  by 
the  humbler  and  poorer  portion,  to  whom  he  chiefly 
devoted  himself.  His  deep  melancholy  struck  Dr. 
Malan,  in  an  interview  which  Robertson  had  with  him 

1  "  Life  and  Letters,"  vol.  i.  p.  6i.  s  Ibid.  p.  66. 


VERNY  AND  ROBERTSON.  327 

at  Geneva,  when  he  was  compelled  to  travel  on  the 
continent  for  the  sake  of  his  health.  This  eloquent 
apostle  of  the  assurance  of  salvation  in  the  juridical 
sense,  said  to  him  :  "  My  dear  brother,  you  will  have  a 
sorrowful  life  and  a  sorrowful  ministry."  "  It  may  be 
so,"  Robertson  writes  ;  "  but  present  peace  is  of  but 
little  consequence.  If  we  sin  we  must  be  miserable ; 
but  if  we  be  God's  own,  that  misery  will  not  last  long: 
misery  for  sin  is  better  worth  having  than  peace."1 

From  Winchester,  Robertson  removed  to  Chelten- 
ham, in  January,  1841.  His  great  gifts  as  an  orator, 
of  which  we  shall  presently  speak  more  fully,  now 
began  to  attract  much  attention.  He  was  never  am- 
bitious of  a  facile  popularity,  and  rebuked  unsparingly 
the  worldliness  of  a  fashionable  resort. 

"  It  gave  me  pleasure,"  he  writes,  "to  hear  that  what 
I  said  on  Sunday  had  been  felt,  not  that  it  had  been 
admired."  We  find  in  his  papers  a  sort  of  pledge 
made  with  himself,  which  gives  us  a  glimpse  into  the 
deep  earnestness  of  his  soul,  and  shows  also  that  his 
theological  views  were  already  beginning  to  waver. 

"Resolves.  To  speak  less  of  self  and  think  less.  To 
try  to  despise  the  principle  of  the  day — '  every  man  his 
own  trumpeter ' — and  to  feel  it  a  degradation  to  speak 
of  my  own  doings  as  a  poor  braggart.  To  be  systematic 
in  visiting,  and  to  make  myself  master  of  some  system 
of  questions  for  ascertaining  the  state  of  the  poor. 

1  "  Life  and  Letters,"  vol.  i.  pp.  82,  83. 


328  CONTEMPORARY  PORTRAITS. 

To  aim  at  more  concentration  of  thought.  To  per- 
form rigorously  the  examen  of  conscience.  To  try 
to  fix  my  thoughts  in  prayer  without  distraction.  To 
listen  to  conscience,  instead  of,  as  Pilate  did,  to  intel- 
lect. To  try  to  fix  attention  on  Christ,  rather  than  on 
tJie  doc  trifles  of  Christ."* 

From  this  time,  the  humanity  of  Christ  fills  a  pro- 
minent place  in  Robertson's  meditations.  We  feel 
that  the  icy  veil  of  a  traditional  scholasticism  has 
fallen,  and  he  has  come  face  to  face  with  the  living 
Saviour.  We  find  these  significant  words  in  a  letter 
to  an  afflicted  friend  : 

"  I  feel  that  sympathy  from  man,  in  sorrow  such  as 
yours,  is  almost  mockery.  None  can  feel  it,  and  cer- 
tainly none  soothe  it,  except  the  man  Christ  Jesus, 
whose  infinite  bosom  echoes  back  every  throb  of  yours. 
To  my  own  heart,  that  marvellous  fact  of  God  enduing 
Himself  with  a  human  soul  of  sympathy  is  the  most 
precious,  and  the  one  I  could  least  afford  to  part  with, 
of  all  the  invigorating  doctrines  which  everlasting 
truth  contains.  That  Christ  feels  now  what  we  feel — 
our  risen,  ascended  Lord — and  that  He  can  impart 
to  us  in  our  fearful  wrestlings  all  the  blessedness  of 
His  sympathy,  is  a  truth  which,  to  my  soul,  stands 
almost  without  a  second.  I  do  pray  that  in  all  its 
fulness  this  may  be  yours — a  truth  to  rest  and  live 
upon."2 

1  "  Life  and  Letters,"  vol.  i.  p.  ioo.  2  Ibid.  p.  102. 


VERNY  AND  ROBERTSON.  329 

Words  like  these  show  how  far  removed  was 
Robertson's  faith  from  the  barren  dogmatism  in  which 
Jesus  only  occupies  a  chapter  or  a  paragraph  in  the 
development  of  the  system.  A  ray  of  fresh  light  has 
fallen,  kindling  to  a  glow  the  cold  metaphysics  of  the 
Councils  of  the  fourth  century.  This  inspiration  of 
the  heart  bears  within  it  the  germ  of  a  new  and  fuller 
theology ;  but  Robertson  will  only  come  to  apprehend 
this  through  much  anguish  of  soul. 

The  paltry  and  irritating  discussions  in  relation  to 
the  Puseyite  movement,  which  agitated  the  religious 
world  of  Cheltenham,  did  much  to  hasten  his  enfran- 
chisement from  the  fetters  of  party.  On  a  subject  of 
this  kind,  narrowness  and  bigotry  find  full  scope ; 
and  it  is  then  seen  how  much  pettiness  and  malice 
may  lurk  under  a  piety  otherwise  sincere.  Everything 
seems  legitimate  in  what  is  called  the  good  cause. 
Slander  may  use  its  tongue  unrebuked,  when  those 
who  are  to  be  injured  are  the  enemies  of  the  Lord. 
The  noble  banner  of  the  gospel  is  trailed  in  the  dust. 
Religious  discussion  in  a  small  town  generally  leads 
to  gossip  and  ends  in  bitter  personalities.  Each  in- 
dividual is  classed  and  labelled  by  the  spirit  of  party, 
and  the  transition  is  fatally  easy  from  the  infinitely 
great  to  the  infinitely  small.  We  can  well  imagine 
what  a  noble  mind  would  feel  in  this  stifling  atmo- 
sphere, and  with  what  deep  disgust  a  man  like  Robert- 
son would  listen  to  the  miserable  squabbles  on  a  subject 
which,  however  important  in  itself,  has  been  so  de- 


\i 


330  CONTEMPORARY  PORTRAITS. 

graded  by  the  littleness  of  its  advocates,  as  to  be  hope- 
lessly compromised.  Robertson's  biographer  says : 
"  His  conception  of  Christianity,  as  the  religion  of  just 
and  loving  tolerance,  and  of  Christ,  as  the  King  of  men 
through  the  power  of  meekness,  made  him  draw  back 
with  horror  from  the  violent  and  blind  denunciation 
which  the  'religious'  agitators  and  the 'religious'  papers 
of  the  extreme  portion  of  the  evangelical  party  in- 
dulged in  under  the  cloak  of  Christianity.  '  They  tell 
lies,'  he  said,  '  in  the  name  of  God  ;  others  tell  them 
in  the  name  of  the  devil — that  is  the  only  difference.'  "J 

Under  this  impression  he  detached  himself  gradually 
from  the  Recordite  party,  a  step  to  which  he  was  also 
impelled  by  his  recent  theological  studies,  into  which 
he  had  entered  with  a  new  spirit  of  free  inquiry. 
With  his  ardent  and  conscientious  nature  this  inquiry 
could  not  be  carried  on  without  much  anguish  of  soul. 
There  came  a  moment  when  his  faith  seemed  to  be 
crumbling  to  the  very  base.  Happily  the  rock — his 
moral  life — escaped  unharmed.  Feeling  that  he  could 
not  preach  in  such  a  state  of  mind,  he  sought  leave 
of  absence,  and  it  was  among  the  mountains  of  the 
Tyrol  that  the  darkest  hours  of  his  spiritual  history 
were  passed.  He  has  described  to  us,  as  none  other 
could,  this  terrible  phase  of  his  experience;  We  will 
give  it  in  his  own  words : 

"  It  is  an  awful  moment  when  the  soul  begins  to 

1  "Life  and  Letters,"  vol.  i.  p.  108. 


VERNY  AND  ROBERTSON.  331 

find  that  the  props  on  which  it  has  blindly  rested  so 
long  are,  many  of  them,  rotten,  and  begins  to  suspect 
them  all  ;  when  it  begins  to  feel  the  nothingness  of 
the  many  traditionary  opinions  which  have  been 
received  with  implicit  confidence,  and  in  that  horrible 
insecurity  begins  also  to  doubt  whether  there  be  any- 
thing to  believe  at  all.  It  is  an  awful  hour — let  him 
who  has  passed  through  it  say  how  awful — when  this 
life  has  lost  its  meaning,  and  seems  shrivelled  into  a 
span  ;  when  the  grave  appears  to  be  the  end  of  all, 
human  goodness  nothing  but  a  name,  and  the  sky 
above  this  universe  a  dead  expanse,  black  with  the 
void  from  which  God  Himself  has  disappeared.  In 
that  fearful  loneliness  of  spirit,  when  those  who  should 
have  been  his  friends  and  counsellors  only  frown  upon 
his  misgivings,  and  profanely  bid  him  stifle  doubts, 
which  for  aught  he  knows  may  arise  from  the  fountain 
of  truth  itself;  to  extinguish,  as  a  glare  from  hell,  that 
which,  for  aught  he  knows,  may  be  light  from  heaven, 
and  everything  seems  wrapped  in  hideous  uncertainty, 
I  know  but  one  way  in  which  a  man  may  come  forth 
from  his  agony  scatheless  ;  it  is  by  holding  fast  to  those 
things  which  are  certain  still — the  grand,  simple  land- 
marks of  morality.  In  the  darkest  hour  through 
which  a  human  soul  can  pass,  whatever  else  is  doubt- 
ful, this  at  least  is  certain.  If  there  be  no  God  and 
no  future  state,  yet  even  then  it  is  better  to  be 
generous  than  selfish,  better  to  be  chaste  than  licen- 
tious, better  to  be  true  than  false,  better  to  be  brave 


332  CONTEMPORARY  PORTRAITS. 

than  to  be  a  coward.  Blessed  beyond  all  earthly 
blessedness  is  the  man  who,  in  the  tempestuous 
darkness  of  the  soul,  has  dared  to  hold  fast  to  these 
venerable  landmarks.  Thrice  blessed,  because  his 
night  shall  pass  into  clear,  bright  day.  I  appeal  to 
the  recollection  of  any  man  who  has  passed  through 
that  hour  of  agony,  and  stood  upon  the  rock  at  last, 
the  surges  stilled  below  him,  and  the  last  cloud  drifted 
from  the  sky  above,  with  a  faith,  and  hope,  and  trust 
no  longer  traditional,  but  of  his  own — a  trust  which 
neither  earth  nor  hell  shall  shake  thenceforth  for 
ever."  x 

Robertson  had  chosen  the  true  method  for  recover- 
ing a  genuine  faith.  By  holding  fast  those  moral 
certainties  which  we  have  no  right  ever  to  allow  to  be 
shaken,  he  kept  in  his  hands  the  indestructible  cable 
which  would  raise  him  again  out  of  the  abyss.  It 
mattered  little  that  the  vessel  in  which  he  had  till 
then  sailed,  went  to  pieces  in  the  storm  ;  the  ship- 
wrecked mariner  came  safe  to  land.  Had  he  once 
been  untrue  to  conscience,  he  would  have  perished 
miserably,  for  he  would  have  let  go  the  rope — the  one 
means  of  escape.  When  we  have  once  lost  the  sense 
of  a  certainty  within  which  can  never  be  shaken, 
the  soul  has  nothing  to  hold  by,  and  is  drifted  hither 
and  thither  on  the  desert  strand,  like  seaweed  without 
root.     So  long  as  conscience  asserts  itself,  we  have  an 

1  "  Life  and  Letters,"  vol.  i.  pp.  hi,  112. 


VERNY  AND  ROBERTSON.  333 

inward  witness  for  the  divine,  and  when  the  divine 
is  again  presented  to  us  we  are  able  to  grasp  it. 
Robertson  often  dwelt  on  this  thought,  so  fully  veri- 
fied in  his  own  experience.  Writing  from  Heidelberg 
to  a  friend,  he  says  :  "  Some  things  I  am  certain  of; 
and  these  are  my  Ursacken,  which  cannot  be  taken 
away  from  me.  I  have  got  so  far  as  this  :  moral 
goodness  and  moral  beauty  are  realities,  lying  at  the 
basis  and  beneath  all  forms  of  the  best  religious 
expressions.  They  are  no  dream,  and  they  are  not 
mere  utilitarian  conveniences.  That  suspicion  was  an 
agony  once.  It  is  passing  away.  After  finding  little- 
ness where  I  expected  nobleness,  and  impurity  where 
I  thought  there  was  spotlessness,  again  and  again  I 
despaired  of  the  reality  of  goodness.  But  in  all  that 
struggle  I  am  thankful  to  say  the  bewilderment  never 
told  upon  my  conduct."  l 

Robertson  was  not  content  with  keeping  a  firm 
hold  of  the  axioms  of  conscience.  He  boldly  faced 
the  investigation  of  the  questions  which  troubled 
him  and,  like  Verny,  he  went  to  Germany.  Timid 
believers  seek  to  stifle  doubt  by  a  practical  exercise 
of  faith,  and  flee  scientific  inquiry  as  they  would  the 
plague.  They  do  not  see  that  in  this  way  they  put 
unbelief  in  the  place  of  doubt ;  for  the  man  who  is 
afraid  of  his  own  thoughts,  and  dares  not  look  scien- 
tific objections  in  the  face,  is  an  unbeliever.     It  is  by 

1  "  Life  and  Letters,"  vol.  i.  p.  121. 


\J 


334  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

the  strangest  perversion  that  the  stultification  of  the 
mind  can  be  mistaken  for  sanctification,  and  that  the 
abnegation  of  intelligence  can  be  supposed  to  be  a 
Christian  virtue.  There  are  pious  ignorant  people ; 
but  ignorance  is  not  in  itself  pious.  It  is  an  outrage 
to  Christianity  to  make  it  appear  that  it  cannot  bear 
the  free  air,  and  still  less  the  stormy  wind,  of  heaven 
to  blow  on  it.  Christianity  is  the  stalwart  oak,  which 
can  give  ample  shelter  to  all  the  birds  of  heaven,  and 
must  not  be  treated  like  the  tender  exotic  of  the  hot- 
house. The  fear  of  German  theology,  so  often  ex- 
pressed in  the  camp  of  extreme  orthodoxy,  is  not  a 
scruple  of  faith,  but  a  leaven  of  unbelief  and  a 
cowardly  distrust  of  the  truth. 

Robertson's  stay  in  Heidelberg  did  him  good.  He 
came  back  confirmed,  not  indeed  in  his  attachment  to 
evangelicalism,  but  in  his  Christian  convictions.  In 
the  absolute  holiness  of  Jesus  Christ  he  found  more 
and  more  the  perfect  realisation  of  the  ideal  of  his 
conscience.  Thus  he  became  himself  again,  and  his 
religious  character  acquired  the  strength  and  settled- 
ness  which  belong  only  to  a  man  who  has  thoroughly 
tested  his  beliefs.  His  closer  acquaintance  with 
Germany — the  classic  ground  of  Christian  learning — 
was  of  much  advantage  to  him.  There  he  found,  side 
by  side  with  the  representatives  of  the  boldly  specu- 
lative school,  which  made  the  negation  of  conscience 
their  starting-point,  another  school,  full  of  religious 
vigour  combined  with  a  large-hearted  liberality,  pre- 


VERNY  AND  ROBER  TSON.  335 

pared  to  treat  religious  questions  without  any  bias  of 
party,  aiming  in  the  midst  of  much  obscurity  at  a 
salutary  reformation  of  evangelical  theology,  and  ! 
anxious  above  all  things  to  introduce  a  moral  ele-  | 
ment  into  religious  speculation.  This  was  the  very 
thing  which  Robertson  sought — the  eternal  substance 
of  Christianity  under  an  enlarged  form.  He  might  | 
then  abandon  the  formularies  which  were  so  painful 
to  him,  and  recognise  that  they  were  human  and 
transitory.  It  was  no  longer  necessary  to  shut  his 
eyes  in  order  not  to  see  fatal  objections.  These 
objections  only  applied  to  a  particular  theology,  and 
did  not  affect  the  essence  of  Christianity.  Great  as 
was  the  light  which  the  young  preacher  thus  received 
at  Heidelberg,  he  did  not  commit  himself  to  any 
school.  He  was  not  to  be,  like  many  others,  the  mere 
translator  of  Germany  ;  he  was  to  represent  the 
aspirations  of  modern  theology  in  his  own  way,  and 
in  harmony  with  the  needs  of  his  own  country. 

On  his  return  to  England,  he  was  appointed  pastor 
of  the  church  of  St.  Ebbe's,  Oxford.  He  was  now 
a  married  man  and  the  father  of  a  family,  and  the 
slender  income  of  his  parish  was  insufficient  for  their 
maintenance.  He  feared,  too,  that  in  this  position  he 
would  be  obliged  to  mix  himself  up,  more  than  he 
wished,  with  the  ecclesiastical  squabbles  overPuseyism ; 
and  it  was  his  great  desire  not  to  be  in  any  way  a 
party  man.  We  cannot  but  regret,  however,  that  he 
did  not  continue  to  preach  in  that  seat  of  learning. 


336  CONTEMPORARY  PORTRAITS. 

He  was  singularly  adapted  for  preaching  and  teaching 
in  a  University  town,  though  he  always  fulfilled  his 
humbler  pastoral  duties  with  unflagging  devotion. 
Perhaps  he  might  have  found  more  helpers  in  this 
learned  city,  and  his  life  might  not  have  been  short- 
ened, as  it  was,  by  excessive  toil.  He  made  his  mark 
at  Oxford  as  everywhere  else,  though  his  stay  there 
was  so  short ;  and  he  was  deeply  regretted  when  he 
left  St.  Ebbe's  for  Trinity  Chapel,  Brighton.  Here 
he  reached  his  highest  development,  both  of  genius 
and  character.  Here  also  he  endured  the  bitterest 
experience  of  moral  isolation.  A  secret  presentiment 
warned  him  of  the  trials  which  awaited  him.  Never- 
theless, he  felt  it  his  duty  not  to  refuse  the  reiterated 
invitations,  and  in  the  year  1847  ne  took  UP  ^ls 
residence  at  Brighton. 

He  found  much  to  sustain  and  compensate  him 
under  the  manifold  trials  of  his  life,  in  the  splendid 
site  of  the  town.  He  was  a  passionate  lover  of 
nature  ;  the  view  of  the  sea  and  its  solemn  sound 
were  to  him  sources  of  exquisite  delight,  which  he 
describes  in  his  own  marvellous  language.  Robertson 
reached  at  this  period  the  full  maturity  of  his  moral 
]/  and  intellectual  nature.  His  correspondence,  and  the 
recollections  of  his  friends,  help  us  to  appreciate  to 
some  extent  the  wealth  of  his  mental  resources  and 
his  powerful  originality.  x 

1  See  especially  chap.  vii.  vol.  i.  of  the  "  Life  and  Letters." 


VERNY  AND  ROBERTSON.  337 

He  belonged  to  the  order  of  minds  which  have  an 
intuition  so  intense  and  keen  that  it  amounts  to 
positive  suffering.  The  poetic  faculty  is,  in  such 
natures,  a  sort  of  clairvoyance  ;  it  is  like  faith,  the 
vivid  realisation  of  things  unseen,  only  it  does  not 
deal  exclusively  with  the  invisible  things  of  eternity. 
It  apprehends  that  which  lies  hidden  beneath  super- 
ficial semblances,  and  sees,  unveiled,  those  elements 
of  the  awful  and  the  sublime  which  underlie  all  life, 
but  which  vulgar  minds  never  recognise  except  in 
those  sudden  convulsions  when  the  subterranean 
fire  bursts  forth,  so  to  speak,  in  molten  lava.  Such 
sensitiveness  brings  exquisite  suffering  to  those 
who  are  endued  with  it  ;  if  it  intensifies  the  joys, 
it  adds  a  double  poignancy  to  all  the  sorrows  of 
life. 

Men  in  whom  imagination  predominates  over  the 
moral  life,  generally  find  a  sort  of  selfish  consolation 
in  the  mere  rendering  of  their  vivid  impressions  in 
eloquent  and  poetic  forms.  Literary  glory  and  the 
delights  of  art  amply  compensate  them  for  the  pain  of 
a  too  exquisite  sensibility.  But  it  is  not  so  with  those 
to  whom  the  moral  life  is  everything,  and  who  live  for 
God.  In  their  case,  the  God-like  compassion  which 
they  feel  for  their  fellow-creatures,  is  painfully  inten- 
sified by  the  vividness  with  which  they  realise  all  their 
difficulties  and  perplexities.  This  is  the  secret  of  the 
sublime  melancholy  of  Pascal,  and  of  the  strong  relief 
in  which  all  the  figures,  especially  those  of  a  sorrowful 

23 


338  CONTEMPORARY  POR**^ J"* 

cast,  stand  out  on  his  powerful  pages.  Robertson 
belongs  wholly  to  the  same  order  of  mind.  His 
fervid  language  seems  the  outpouring  of  a  heart  con- 
sumed with  a  holy  fire  ;  it  was  his  nature  to  realise 
the  difficulties  of  others  with  an  intensity  that  became 
an  agony  to  himself. 

"  My  misfortune  or  happiness,"  he  says,  "  is  power 
of  sympathy.  I  can  feel  with  the  Brahmin,  the 
Pantheist,  the  Stoic,  the  Platonist,  the  Transcend- 
entalist,  perhaps  the  Epicurean.  I  can  suffer  with 
I  the  Tractarian  tenderly  shinking  from  the  gulf 
blackening  before  him  ...  I  can  also  agonise  with 
the  infidels,  &c."  i 

This  temperament  was  at  once  the  bane  of  his  life 
and  the  source  of  his  power  as  a  writer  and  speaker. 
It  made  him  realise,  in  all  their  bitterness,  the  suffer- 
ings of  humanity  ;  it  gave  a  terrible  poignancy  to  all 
his  mental  struggles,  and  magnified  the  misconcep- 
tions and  unjust  judgments  passed  upon  him  into 
actual  torture  to  his  over- wrought  sensitiveness.  His 
sufferings  were  unquestionably  morbidly  acute,  and 
brought  his  life  to  an  untimely  close.  Every  sermon 
that  he  preached  cost  him  some  of  his  heart's  best 
blood.  But  the  anguish  was  not  unrelieved.  We 
should  do  injustice  to  Robertson's  nature  and  school 
of  thought,  if  we  did  not  recognise  that,  with  his  ever- 
growing faith  and  deepening  love,  the  sacred  joys  of 

1 "  Life  and  Letters,"  vol.  i.  p.  183. 


VERNY  AND  ROBERTSON.  339 

his  heart  and  mind  were  such  as  meaner  souls  can 
never  know.  And  surely,  even  in  our  day,  there  are 
many  who  would  still  make  Achilles'  choice,  and  deem 
it  better  to  live  much  in  the  highest  sense  than  to 
live  long. 

Robertson's  strong  feelings  did  not  expend  them- 
selves merely  in  sympathy.  Cowardice,  hypocrisy,  vice 
of  any  kind,  stirred  him  to  vehement  indignation, 
and  his  language  when  rebuking  them  burst  forth,  to 
use  his  own  expression,  like  liquid  fire.  He  could  also 
exercise  at  times  a  severe  self-repression.  He  was 
one  of  those  strong  men  who  regard  effusiveness  as  a 
sign  of  weakness.  A  pressure  of  the  hand  and  a  look 
convey  more  to  such  than  any  sentimental  demon- 
strations by  speech  or  action.  It  was  this  power  of 
repression  which  gave  such  strength  and  simplicity  to 
Robertson's  style,  and  such  concentration  of  thought, 
illumined  by  the  flashes  of  a  vivid  imagination.  He 
had  always  a  horror  of  mere  excitement,  as  so  easily 
mistaken  for  the  reality  of  piety  and  devotion.  He 
knew  that  Christianity  was  like  a  marvellous  musical 
instrument,  which  can  be  made  to  give  forth  exquisite 
harmonies  under  the  touch  of  the  skilful  player ;  but 
he  felt,  too,  how  easy  it  is  to  practise  self-deception 
under  such  influences,  and  to  talk  much  of  Christian 
heroism  without  bringing  it  to  bear  on  the  daily  life. 
There  is  an  illusive  poetry  of  the  cross.  It  is  far 
more  easy  to  sing  about  it  than  to  carry  it.  Robert- 
son was  fully  alive  to  this  danger.     He  knew  but  too 


X 


340  CONTEMPORARY  PORTRAITS. 

well  that  preaching,  however  tender  and  forcible,  was 
but  as  a  tinkling  cymbal,  unless  it  reached  the  springs 
of  the  life.     He  says  : 

"  Nothing  is  more  dangerous  than  the  command 
of  a  pen  which  can  write  correct  sentiments,  such  as 
might  befit  a  martyr  or  an  angel.  And  the  danger  is, 
that  the  confusion  between  a  commonplace  life  and 
that  of  an  angel  or  a  martyr  is  hopeless.  For,  when 
the  same  sublimities  proceed  from  both,  who  is  to  con- 
vince us  that  we  are  not  beatified  martyrs  or  holy 
angels?  .  .  .  How  dare  I  talk  of  sacrifice?  And  how 
little  there  is  of  it  in  my  life!  one  perpetual  succession 
of  enjoyments  !  It  has  often  struck  me  that  Christ 
never  suffered  sentimentalisms  to  pass  without  a 
matter-of-fact  testing  of  what  they  were  worth  and  of 
what  they  meant."  l 

Robertson  dreaded  the  intoxication  of  success,  and 
had  a  horror  of  becoming  a  fashionable  preacher. 

"If  you  knew,"  he  wrote  to  a  friend,  "how  sick  at 
heart  I  am  with  the  whole  work  of  parle-ment,  talkee, 
palaver,  or  whatever  else  it  is  called ;  how  lightly  I  hold 
the 'gift  of  the  gab  ;'  how  grand  and  divine  the  realm 
of  silence  seems  to  me  in  comparison  ;  how  humiliated 
and  degraded  to  the  dust  I  have  felt  in  perceiving 
myself  quietly  taken  by  gods  and  men  for  the  popular 
preacher  of  a  fashionable  watering-place  ;  how  slight 
the  power  seems  to  me  to  be  given  by  it   of  winning 

Lf  "  Life  and  Letters,"  vol.  ii.  p.  194. 


VERNY  A  ND  ROBER  TSON.  34 1 

souls  ;  and  how  sternly  I  have  kept  my  tongue 
from  saying  a  syllable  or  a  sentence,  in  pulpit  or  on 
platform,  because  it  would  be  popular."  l 

This  asceticism,  which  was  such  a  safeguard  to  a 
brilliant  nature  like  Robertson's,  was  perfectly  com- 
patible with  great  breadth  of  general  culture.  He 
delighted  in  all  that  was  noble  and  true  in  art  and 
literature,  as  well  as  in  nature,  connected  himself 
with  every  great  social  and  political  movement  of  the 
age,  and  indulged  the  high  ambition  of  bringing 
every  thought  into  captivity  to  the  obedience  of 
Christ.  In  his  correspondence  we  find  him  passing 
from  a  fine  description  of  a  sunset  at  sea,  to  a  subtle 
analysis  of  a  drama  of  Shakespeare  or  a  poem  of 
Wordsworth  ;  taking  up  questions  of  popular  educa- 
tion or  philosophy,  but  ever  reverting  to  his  great 
theme,  the  truths  of  Christian  theology  and  ethics. 
Unity  underlies  all  the  variety — one  spirit  runs  through 
all  his  thoughts.  He  is  not  the  austere  representative 
of  a  mummified  tradition,  or  of  clerical  authority  ;  he 
does  not  play  the  farce  of  an  imperturbable  assurance ; 
but  his  influence  is  all  the  greater,  because  it  is  derived 
purely  from  his  moral  qualities. 

His  correspondence  gives  us  in  his  own  words  the 
broad  outlines  of  his  too  brief  ministry  at  Brighton. 
He  devoted  himself  by  preference  to  the  humbler 
members  of  his  church,  thus  he  became  the  cherished 


"  Life  and  Letters,"  vol.  i.  p.  196. 


342  CONTEMPORAR  Y  POR TRAITS. 

friend  of  the  poor  and  the  suffering.  He  had  too  clear 
an  insight  into  the  conditions  of  the  age  not  to  under- 
stand that  the  social  question  was  one  of  supreme 
importance,  and  that  the  practical  solution  of  it  must 
be  sought  primarily  in  the  better  education  of  the 
working  classes.  The  Revolution  of  1848,  which 
occurred  soon  after  his  settlement  at  Brighton,  con- 
firmed him  in  his  wise  and  generous  determination  to 
devote  himself  unsparingly  to  the  cause  of  popular 
education.  He  took  a  very  active  part  in  the  founda- 
tion of  a  Working  Men's  Institute  with  a  library 
and  public  lectures,  and  by  this  means  he  exercised  a 
most  happy  influence  over  the  artisans  of  the  town, 
with  whom,  however,  he  never  hesitated  to  break  a 
lance  when  necessary.  He  vigorously  opposed  the 
attempt  to  introduce  bad  books  into  the  library. 

Robertson  greatly  offended  the  Tories  by  speaking 
with  what  they  considered  an  irreverent  candour  of 
the  beginnings  of  royalty,  in  a  course  of  expositions  of 
the  Book  of  Samuel.  It  might  well  be  supposed  that 
he  would  have  little  sympathy  with  the  narrow  Con- 
servatism which,  at  the  critical  times  of  the  nation's 
history,  fell  into  a  state  of  imbecile  terror  and  had 
nothing  but  resistance  to  offer  to  aspirations  however 
legitimate.     Of  this  futile  policy  Robertson  wrote  : 

"What  has  ever  made  democracy  dangerous  but 
Conservatism  ?  The  French  Revolution  !  Socialism  ! 
Why,  men  seem  to  forget  that  these  things  come  out 
of  Toryism,  which  forced  the  people  into  madness  ! 


VERNY  AND  ROBERTSON.  343 

What  makes  rivers  and  canals  overflow  ?  The  deep 
channel  cut  ever  deeper,  or  the  dam  put  across  by- 
wise  people  to  stop  them  ?  "  I 

Robertson  was  repeatedly  accused  of  Socialism  :  he 
scorned  to  refute  the  foolish  calumny.  Nothing  could 
be  more  opposed  to  the  general  tenor  of  his  teaching 
than  Utopian  schemes,  the  very  basis  of  which  was 
the  extinction  of  individuality  and  the  suppression  of 
liberty.  He  was  none  the  less  anxious  to  bring  the 
various  classes  of  society  nearer  to  each  other,  by  the 
operation  of  that  true  practical  charity,  the  first  prin- 
ciple of  which  is  respect  for  the  poor. 

"  I  knew  a  young  lady,"  he  says,  "  who  used  to  go 

down  to and  lecture  the  poor  people  upon  their 

dirt  and  uncomfortable  habits  and  houses,  and — hear 
it  heaven  and  earth  ! — they  did  not  repent  of  their  evil 
ways,  and  reform  at  the  voice  of  that  angelic  visita- 
tion !  It  is  just  possible  that,  never  having  seen  clean- 
liness or  comfort,  they  did  not  know  what  she  wanted 
them  to  aim  at  or  how  to  begin.  Mrs.  Fry  would 
have  bought  them  a  bit  of  soap,  and  washed  a  child's 
fingers  with  her  own  hands  as  a  specimen,  and  drawn 
out  a  little  set  of  rules,  and  paraded  the  family  once 
a  week,  half  in  fun,  half  good-humoured ly,  to  see  that 
her  orders  were  obeyed  ;  and  she  would  have  gone  on 
for  a  year,  and  if  at  the  end  of  a  year  she  saw  a  little 
dawn  of  improvement,  she  would  have  thanked  God 

1  "  Life  and  Letters,"  vol.  i.  p.  150. 


(J 


344  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRA ITS. 

and  taken  courage.  But  fine  young  ladies  think  that 
an  elegant  cut  of  a  riding-whip  through  the  air  in  the 
last  Belgravian  fashion  is  to  electrify  a  Celtic  village, 
and  convert  a  whole  population  of  savages  to  civilised 
tastes  and  English  habits.  The  patient  drudgery 
which  does  God's  work,  however,  is  not  learned  in 
Belgrave  Square.  Well,  the  aristocracy  of  the  next 
world  will  be  the  Frys,  the  Chisholms,  and  the  people 
who  do  not  care  for  being  smart,  and  are  not  afraid, 
like  their  Master,  to  '  lay  their  hands'  upon  the 
wretches  whom  they  would  rescue." l 

Socialism  was  not,  however,  the  main  charge  brought 
against  Robertson.  His  bold  and  uncompromising 
preaching  came  into  constant  collision  with  the 
opinions  of  the  current  orthodoxy,  though  he  never 
went  beyond  the  categorical  statement  of  his  views. 
Thus,  while  vast  crowds  still  thronged  to  hear  him,  he 
was  painfully  conscious  of  moral  isolation  ;  and  as 
time  went  on  this  feeling  became  increasingly  bitter 
and  hard  to  bear. 

"  Of  one  thing,"  he  writes,  "  I  have  become  distinctly 
conscious — that  my  motto  for  life,  my  whole  heart's 
expression  is,  "None  but  Christ ; '  not  in  the  (so-called) 
evangelical  sense,  which  I  take  to  be  the  sickliest  cant 
that  has  appeared  since  the  Pharisees  bare  record  to 
the  gracious  words  which  He  spake,  and  then  tried  to 
cast  Him  headlong  from  the  hill  at  Nazareth  ;  but  in 

1  "  Life  and  Letters,"  vol.  ii.  p.  154. 


VERNY  AND  ROBERTSON  .    345 

a  deeper,  real  sense — the  mind  of  Christ  ;  to  feel  as 
He  felt  ;  to  judge  the  world  and  to  estimate  the 
world's  maxims,  as  He  judged  and  estimated.  This 
is  the  one  thing  worth  living  for.  To  realise  that,  is 
to  feel  '  None  but  Christ.'  But  then,  in  proportion  as 
a  man  does  that  he  is  stripping  himself  of  garment 
after  garment,  till  his  soul  becomes  naked  of  that 
which  once  seemed  part  of  himself.  He  is  not  only 
giving  up  prejudice  after  prejudice,  but  also  renouncing 
sympathy  after  sympathy  with  friends  whose  smile 
and  approbation  were  once  his  life,  till  he  begins  to 
suspect  that  he  will  be  very  soon  alone  with  Christ. 
More  awful  than  I  can  express.  To  believe  that  and 
still  press  on,  is  what  I  mean  by  the  sentence  '  None 
but  Christ.'  I  do  not  know  that  I  can  express  all  I 
mean,  but  sometimes  it  is  to  me  a  sense  almost 
insupportable  of  silence  and  stillness  and  solitariness."1 

These  sentiments  are  expressed  with  a  force,  bor- 
dering on  coarseness,  in  the  following  words : 

"  In  proportion  as  I  adore  Christ  (and  I  do  think 
my  whole  soul  thrills  and  trembles  at  the  thought  of 
Him,  when  I  understand,  or  fancy  I  understand  Him, 
and  feel  my  own  heart  acquiescing  in  His  life  and 
views  of  life  and  God,  and  acknowledging  them  to  be 
revelations),  exactly  in  that  proportion  do  I  abhor 
evangelicalism.  I  feel  more  at  brotherhood  with  a 
deranged,  mistaken,  maddened,  sinful  Chartist,  than  I 

1  "Life  and  Letters,"  vol.  i.  p.  154. 


346  CONTEMPORARY  PORTRAITS. 

do  with  that  religious  world  which  has  broken  popery 
into  a  hundred  thousand  fragments,  and  made  every 
fragment  an  entire,  new,  infallible  Pope,  dealing  out 
quietly  and  cold-bloodedly  the  flames  of  the  next 
world  upon  all  heretics  who  dispute  their  dictum,  in 
compensation  for  the  loss  of  the  power  which  their 
ancestor  by  spiritual  descent  pleasingly  exercised,  of 
dispensing  the  flames  of  this  world.  Luckily,  the 
hope  remains  that  they  are  not  plenipotentiaries  of 
the  place  with  which  they  seem  so  familiar.  More 
and  more,  day  by  day,  one's  soul  feels  itself  alone  with 
God,  and  resolved  to  listen  for  His  voice  alone  in  the 
deeps  of  the  spirit."  l  Robertson  was  manifestly 
unjust  in  thus  implicating  the  whole  of  a  great  reli- 
gious party  in  the  blame  which  really  attached  only  to 
some  of  its  leaders.  But  upon  these  the  rebuke  falls 
with  no  undue  severity. 

The  incidents  in  Robertson's  life  are  few  and  un- 
important ;  its  dramatic  interest  lies  in  the  inward 
conflict,  which  was  incessantly  renewed.  However 
keenly  wounded  in  his  deepest  affections,  he  made 
no  sign  of  suffering ;  his  soul  was  too  proud,  too 
noble  to  betray  its  secret  anguish.  His  sermons  give 
scarcely  any  indication  of  the  conflicts  within  ;  few 
could  guess  how  deeply  agitated  was  the  soul  that 
could  express  itself  with  such  quiet  strength.  Yet 
even'  word  was  perfectly  sincere  ;  the  calmness  was 

1  "Life  and  Letters,"  vol.  i.  p.  158. 


VERNY  AND  ROBERTSON.  347 

no  mere  mask,  it  was  a  manly  self-conquest.  He 
was  like  the  young  Spartan  who  kept  a  quiet  face 
while  the  wild  beast  was  gnawing  at  his  vitals,  and 
would  have  deemed  it  dishonour  to  betray  his  agony. 
The  publication  of  Robertson's  life  was,  therefore,  a 
revelation  to  the  readers  of  his  sermons.  It  showed 
how  much  every  sermon  had  cost  him.  It  is  a  most 
interesting  study  to  place  the  sermons  side  by  side 
with  his  private  correspondence.  This  we  shall 
attempt  to  do  before  pronouncing  our  final  opinion 
upon  him  as  a  theologian  and  a  preacher. 

Some  of  the  organs  of  an  implacable  bigotry,  which 
persecuted  him  with  their  unfair  representations  of 
his  teaching,  called  forth  from  him  repeated  outbursts 
of  indignation.     Of  one  of  these  periodicals  he  said  : 

"  The  Record  has  done  me  the  honour  to  abuse 
me  for  some  time  past  ;  for  which  I  thank  them 
gratefully.  God  forbid  they  should  ever  praise  me  ! 
One  article  alone  contained  four  unscrupulous  lies 
about  me,  on  no  better  evidence  than  that  some  one 
had  told  them  who  had  been  told  by  somebody 
else.  They  shall  have  no  disclaimer  from  me.  If 
the  Record  can  put  a  man  down,  the  sooner  he  is 
put  down  the  better.  .  .  .  The  evangelicalism,  so 
called,  of  the  Record,  is  an  emasculated  one,  snarling 
at  all  that  is  better  than  itself,  cowardly,  lying,  and 
slanderous.  It  is  not  worth  while  to  stop  your  horse 
and  castigate  it,  for  it  will  be  off  yelping,  and  come 
back  to  snarl.     An  evangelical  clergyman   admitted 


348  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

some  proof  I  had  given  him  of  the  Record's  cowardice 
and  dishonesty,  but  said  :  '  Well,  in  spite  of  that,  I 
like  it,  because  it  upholds  the  truth,  and  is  a  great 
witness  for  religion.'  '  So,'  said  I,  '  is  that  the  creed  of 
evangelicalism  ?  A  man  may  be  a  liar,  a  coward, 
and  slanderous,  and  still  uphold  the  truth  !  "  J 

The  attacks  against  Robertson  became  more  and 
more  numerous.  He  would  often  be  visited  in  his 
study  on  Monday  by  persons  with  long,  alarmed 
faces,  who  seemed,  however,  well  satisfied  with  them- 
selves for  having  been  so  shocked.  These  benevolent 
censors  found  exquisite  consolation  in  expressing 
their  fears  for  him  with  many  ominous  shakings  of 
the  head.  Sometimes  his  patience  failed  under  the 
ordeal,  especially  when  he  felt  that  the  attack  was  as 
malicious  as  it  was  ignorant.  One  Monday  morning 
a  solemn  gentleman  introduced  himself  as  having  been 
of  great  service  to  young  clergymen.  He  arraigned 
the  sermon  he  had  heard  in  Trinity  Chapel  the  day 
before  :  spoke  of  the  dangerous  views  and  the  im- 
petuosity of  young  men  ;  offered  himself  as  a  weekly 
monitor,  and  enumerated,  in  conclusion,  the  perils  and 
inconveniences  to  which  popular  preachers  were  sub- 
ject. Mr.  Robertson,  who  had  remained  silent,  at  last 
rose.  "  Really,  Sir,"  he  said  sternly,  "  the  only  incon- 
venience I  have  experienced  in  being  what  you  are 
pleased  to  call  me,  a  popular  preacher,  is  intrusion, 

1  "  Life  and  Letters,"  vol.  ii.  p.  128. 


VERNY  AND  ROBERTSON.  349 

like  the  present."  And  he  bowed  his  censor  out  of 
the  room.  He  had  recognised  instinctively  in  his 
visitor  the  malice  prepense  of  an  implacable  bigotry. 

The  lady  theologians  who  pronounce  sentences 
against  which  there  is  no  appeal,  and  who  promulgate 
with  touching  eagerness,  the  decrees  of  excommuni- 
cation issued  in  orthodox  circles,  greatly  annoyed  and 
wearied  Robertson.  They  were  always  accusing  him 
of  neology,  a  convenient  and  elastic  word  to  be  used 
by  those  ignorant  persons  who  regard  science  as  the 
smoke  of  the  abyss.  He  was  also  accused  of  German 
theology,  and  this  was  a  grave  cause  of  suspicion  to 
those  who  were  strongly  inclined  to  believe  that  truth 
is  English  and  the  devil  German.  These  absurdities 
were  of  no  real  importance,  but  they  set  on  foot  mis- 
representations which  had  the  painful  effect  of  aliena- 
ting from  Robertson  many  upright  and  pious  souls,  for 
whom,  in  spite  of  the  unintentional  injustice,  he  still 
retained  a  deep  love  and  respect.  The  sense  of  moral 
isolation  is  always  peculiarly  painful  to  men  of  Robert- 
son's temperament  ;  and  he  felt  it  in  even  an  exagger- 
ated degree.  He  learnt  great  lessons,  however,  in  this 
severe  school.  His  sermons  on  the  kingdom  of  truth, 
and  on  the  Loneliness  of  Christ,  give  us,  in  a  matured 
form,  the  fruit  of  these  bitter  but  salutary  expe- 
riences. Though  he  did  not  know  Vinet,  he  vindi- 
cated with  an  eloquence  almost  equal  to  that  of  the 
author  of  "  Les  convictions  religieuses,"  the  inalien- 
able claims  of  truth,  and  its  purely  moral  power,  which 


350  CONTEMPORAR  Y  POR TRAITS. 

does  not  derive  its  support  from  might  or  authority 
or  from  mere  force  of  argument,  but  which  appeals 
to  the  heart  and  conscience,  and  requires  to  be 
received  with  uprightness  and  with  the  resolve  to 
bring  the  life  into  agreement  with  the  doctrine. 
Robertson,  in  his  sermon  on  the  scepticism  of  Pilate, 
truly  represents  false  authority  as  a  principle  of  doubt. 
He  says  : 

"  Fanaticism  and  scepticism — these  are  the  two 
results  which  come  from  all  claims  to  infallibility  and 
all  prohibition  of  inquiry.  They  make  bigots  of  the 
feeble-minded  who  cannot  think  ;  cowardly  bigots, 
who,  at  the  bidding  of  their  priests  or  ministers,  swell 
the  ferocious  cry  which  forces  a  government,  or  a 
judge,  or  a  bishop,  to  persecute  some  opinion  which 
they  fear  and  hate  ;  turning  private  opinion  into  civil 
crime  :  and  they  make  sceptics  of  the  acute  intellects 
which,  like  Pilate,  see.  through  their  fallacies,  and,  like 
Pilate  too,  dare  not  publish  their  misgivings. 

"  And  it  matters  not  in  what  form  that  claim  to  in- 
fallibility is  made  ;  whether  in  the  clear  consistent 
way  in  which  Rome  asserts  it,  or  whether  in  the  in- 
consistent way  in  which  churchmen  make  it  for 
their  church,  or  religious  bodies  for  their  favourite 
opinions ;  wherever  penalties  attach  to  a  conscientious 
conviction,  be  they  penalties  of  the  rack  and  flame,  or 
the  penalties  of  being  suspected,  and  avoided,  and 
slandered,  and  the  slur  of  heresy  affixed  to  the  name, 
till  all  men  count  him  dangerous,  lest  they  too  should 


VERNY  AND  ROBERTSON.  351 

be  put  out  of  the  synagogue — and  let  every  man  who 
is  engaged  in  persecuting  any  opinion  ponder  it — 
these  two  things  must  follow,  you  make  fanatics,  and 
you  make  sceptics  ;  believers  you  cannot  make."  I 

In  his  sermon  on  the  Loneliness  cf  Christ,  the  bitter 
anguish  of  a  loving  heart,  when  it  feels  itself  alone  in 
the  midst  of  its  fellows,  is  described  with  a  power  and 
pathos  which  rise  to  the  height  of  true  poetry  : 

"  It  is  a  solemn  thing,  doubtless,  to  be  apart  from 
men,  and  to  feel  eternity  rushing  by  like  an  arrowy 
river.  But  the  solitude  of  Christ  was  the  solitude  of 
a  crowd.  In  that  single  human  bosom  dwelt  the 
thought  which  was  to  be  the  germ  of  the  world's 
life  :  a  thought  unshared,  misunderstood,  or  rejected. 
Can  we  not  feel  the  grandeur  of  those  words,  when 
the  Man,  reposing  in  His  solitary  strength,  felt  the 
last  shadow  of  perfect  isolation  pass  across  his  soul  : 
1  My  God,  my  God,  why  hast  Thou  forsaken  me '  ?  "  2 

Robertson  describes  no  less  impressively  the  in- 
effable joy  found  even  in  solitude  by  the  soul,  when  it 
can  exclaim  :  "  Yet  I  am  not  alone,  for  the  Father  is 
with  me."  He  characterised  very  happily  his  peculiar 
mission  in  its  noble  and  in  its  painful  aspect,  perhaps, 
also,  in  its  incompleteness,  when  he  said  : 

"  I  believe  the  path  in  which  I  work  is  the  true  pass 
across  the  mountains,  though  the  thought  and  the 
hand  of  the  master  engineer  are  wanting  to  make  it  a 

1  "  Sermons,"  First  Series,  pp.  298,  299. 

2  Ibid.  pp.  229,  230. 


352  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

road  broad  and  safe  for  the  people  and  the  multitude 
to  travel  in."  l 

Such  was  he  indeed — the  one  to  go  first  down  a 
steep  and  slippery  descent,  a  pioneer  in  the  path  of 
progress.  He  was  never  to  know  the  joy  of  march- 
ing on  with  the  great  body  of  the  army  to  the  thrilling 
strains  of  martial  music.  The  danger  to  one  in  such 
a  position  is  that  of  becoming  self-absorbed  and  es- 
tranged from  sympathy  with  his  fellows — a  mischief 
far  more  serious  than  that  of  being  excommunicated 
by  a  narrow  party  spirit.  Robertson  escaped  this 
greater  evil,  and  retained  through  life  a  generous 
breadth  of  heart  and  mind. 

"  It  is  really  time,  now,"  he  wrote,  "  after  eighteen 
centuries,  that  we  should  get  some  better  conception 
than  we  have  of  what  Christianity  is.  If  we  could  but 
comprehend  the  manifested  Life  of  God,  Christ  in  His 
earthly  career,  how  He  looked  on  things,  and  felt  and 
thought,  what  He  hated  and  what  He  pitied,  we  might 
have  some  chance  of  agreement.  As  it  is,  I  suppose 
we  shall  go  on  biting  and  devouring  one  another,  and 
thinking — alas  !  for  the  mockery  ! — that  we  have  real- 
ised a  kingdom  of  God  upon  earth.  To  understand  the 
life  and  spirit  of  Christ  appears  to  me  to  be  the  only 
chance  of  remedy  ;  but  we  have  got  doctrines  about 
Christ  instead  of  Christ  ;  and  we  call  the  bad  meta- 
physics of   evangelicalism  the  gospel,  and  the  tem- 

1  "Life  and  Letters/'  vol.  ii.  p.  185. 


VERNY  AND  ROBERTSON.  353 

porary,  transitory  forms  of  Tractarianism  the  Church. 
To  know  Him,  the  power  of  His  resurrection,  and  the 
fellowship  of  His  sufferings,  that  is  all  in  all ;  and  if 
the  death  and  life  of  Christ  are  working  in  a  man,  he 
is  our  brother,  whether  Tractarian  or  Evangelical,  if 
we  could  but  believe  that  very  simple  proposition."  r 

We  find  this  idea  dwelt  upon  at  length  in  the  ser- 
mon on  the  Dispensation  of  the  Spirit.  Starting  from 
the  same  standpoint  as  Vinet  in  his  noble  discourse 
on  the  invisible  Christ,  Robertson  says  : 

"  The  outward  humanity  is.  to  disappear,  that  the 
inward  union  may  be  complete.  .  .  .  For  this  reason 
the  ascension  was  necessary  before  Pentecost  could 
come.  The  Spirit  was  not  given,  we  are  told,  because 
Jesus  was  not  yet  glorified.  It  was  necessary  for  the 
Son  to  disappear  as  an  outward  authority,  in  order  that 
He  might  reappear  as  an  inward  principle  of  life. 
Our  salvation  is  no  longer  God  manifested  in  a  'Christ 
without  us,  but  as  a  Christ  within  us,  the  hope  of  glory.' 
.  .  .  The  operation  of  this  Spirit  of  God  creates  a 
living  unity — spiritual  not  formal  ;  not  sameness,  but 
manifoldness.  There  may  be  a  unity  shown  in  identity 
of  form,  but  it  is  a  lifeless  unity.  There  is  a  sameness 
on  the  seabeach — that  unity  which  the  ocean  waves 
have  produced,  by  curling  and  forcibly  destroying  the 
angularities  of  individual  form,  so  that  every  stone 
presents  the  same  monotony  of  aspect.  There  is  no  life 

1  "  Life  and  Letters,"  vol.  ii.  p.  186. 
24 


354  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRA  ITS. 

in  such  unity  as  this.  But  as  soon  as  you  arrive  at  a 
unity  that  is  living,  the  form  becomes  more  complex, 
and  you  search  in  vain  for  uniformity.  What  is  the 
unity  of  the  human  body  ?  Is  it  not  this  ?  The  unity 
of  a  living  consciousness,  which  marvellously  animates 
every  separate  atom  of  the  frame,  and  reduces  each  to 
the  performance  of  a  function  fitted  to  the  welfare  of 
the  whole — its  own,  not  another's :  so  that  the  inner 
spirit  can  say  of  the  remotest  and  in  form  most  unlike 
member,  '  That,  too,  is  myself  ? '  "x 

We  will  now  pass  rapidly  in  review  some  of  the 
collateral  labours  of  Robertson's  ministry  not  directly 
connected  with  his  theological  work.  It  is  very  inte- 
resting to  see  how,  while  never  neglecting  his  proper 
vocation,  he  threw  himself  into  the  great  general  in- 
terests of  the  day.  We  have  already  spoken  of  his 
influence  among  the  poorer  classes,  and  of  the  part 
taken  by  him  in  founding  the  Working  Men's  Institute 
at  Brighton.  For  the  benefit  of  this  institution  he 
gave  a  very  admirable  lecture  on  the  influence  of 
poetry  upon  the  people.  When  called  to  preach  at 
the  Assizes,  he  showed  how  much  thought  he  had 
given  to  this  important  phase  of  our  social  life.  His 
remarks  on  punishment  were  altogether  free  from  that 
maudlin  sentimentality  which  fails  to  recognise  the 
majesty  and  wholesome  severity  of  law.  We  are  sur- 
prised, however,  to  find  him  approving  the  punishment 

1  "  Sermons,"  Third  Series,  pp.  30,  40. 


VERNY  AND  ROBERTSON.  355 

of  death.  It  was  before  the  Assizes  that  he  preached 
his  very  fine  sermon  on  the  Kingdom  of  Truth,  in 
which  he  brings  face  to  face  the  prevaricating  judge 
and  the  Divine  prisoner.  At  the  time  of  the  political 
elections,  Robertson,  who  belonged  heart  and  soul  to 
the  Liberal  party,  preached  a  sermon  on  the  election 
of  the  Apostle  Matthias.  He  carefully  abstained,  as 
he  was  bound  to  do  in  the  pulpit,  from  any  allusion  to 
his  private  opinion  ;  but  he  used  the  opportunity  given 
him  by  the  excited  feelings  of  the  moment,  to  define 
very  distinctly  the  principle  of  Gospel  morality,  which 
ought  to  guide  citizens  in  the  fulfilment  of  so  impor- 
tant and  delicate  a  duty.  He  never  hesitated  to  give 
variety  to  his  sermons  by  drawing  largely  upon  the 
literary  and  historical  culture  of  the  time.  His  ser- 
mons on  the  Romans,  the  Greeks,  and  the  Barbarians, 
regarded  in  their  relations  to  primitive  Christianity, 
are  of  extreme  interest.  His  sermon  on  the  Religion 
of  India  is  no  less  remarkable  ;  it  is  a  sort  of  apolo- 
getic history,  more  in  the  nature  of  a  lecture  than  of  a 
sermon,  but  animated  throughout  by  the  power  of  a 
living  faith. 

The  sermons  in  which  he  takes  up  the  great  charac- 
ters of  Old  and  New  Testament  history,  are  richly 
poetical.  He  draws  the  moral  features  of  his  heroes 
with  a  firm  and  faithful  touch  ;  and,  contrary  to  the 
usual  practice  of  his  countrymen  in  their  religious 
literature,  he  gives  the  true  historical  setting,  paint- 
ing  in  the  background  in  solid  and  sober   colours. 


35^  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

He  treats  with  equal  depth  and  originality  all  the 
main  points  of  Christian  morality.  Among  his  best 
known  sermons  are  those  on  "  The  Power  of  Sorrow," 
"  Sensual  and  Spiritual  Excitement,"  "  Purity,"  "  Unity 
and  Peace,"  "  Christian  Casuistry,"  "  The  Law  of  Chris- 
tian Conscience,"  "The  Lawful  and  Unlawful  Use  of 
Law,"  "  The  Irreparable  Past." 

The  very  choice  of  subjects  like  these  was  itself  an 
innovation.  As  a  specimen  of  the  richly  poetical 
form  which  his  thought  often  assumed  in  these  dis- 
courses, which  were  studies  of  sacred  history  and 
morality  rather  than  of  theology,  we  may  quote  the 
following  passages  from  his  sermon  on  Jacob's 
Wrestling.  The  method  of  treatment  is  most  sug- 
gestive.    Robertson  says  : 

"  Putting  aside  the  form  of  this  narrative,  and  look- 
ing into  the  heart  and  meaning  of  it,  it  will  become 
apparent  that  we  have  before  us  the  record  of  an 
inward,  spiritual  struggle,  as  real  now  in  the  nine- 
teenth century  as  then  ;  as  real  in  every  earnest  man 
as  it  was  in  the  history  of  Jacob. 

"  We  take  these  points  : 

"  i.  The  nameless  secret  of  existence. 

"  2.  The  revelation  of  that  secret  to  the  soul. 

"  I  observe  that  this  desire  of  Jacob  was  not  the  one 
we  should  naturally  have  expected  on  such  an  occa- 
sion. He  is  alone — his  past  fault  is  coming  retribu- 
tively  on  a  guilty  conscience — he  dreads  the  meeting 
with  his  brother.     His  soul   is  agonised  with  that ; 


VERNY  AND  ROBERTSON.  357 

and  that  we  naturally  expect  will  be  the  subject  and 
the  burden  of  his  prayer.  No  such  thing !  Not  a 
word  about  Esau  :  not  a  word  about  personal  danger 
at  all.  All  that  is  banished  completely  for  the  time, 
and  deeper  thoughts  are  grappling  with  his  soul.  To 
get  safe  through  to-morrow  ?  No,  no,  no  !  To  be 
blessed  by  God — to  know  Him,  and  what  He  is — that 
is  the  battle  of  Jacob's  soul  from  sunset  till  the  dawn 
of  day. 

"  And  this  is  our  struggle — the  struggle.  Let  any 
true  man  go  down  into  the  deeps  of  his  own  being, 
and  answer  us — what  is  the  cry  that  comes  from 
the  most  real  part  of  his  nature  ?  Is  it  the  cry  for 
daily  bread  ?  Jacob  asked  for  that  in  his  first  com- 
muning with  God — preservation,  safety.  Is  it  even 
this — to  be  forgiven  our  sins  ?  Jacob  had  a  sin  to  be 
forgiven  ;  and  in  that  most  solemn  moment  of  his 
existence  he  did  not  say  a  syllable  about  it.  Or  is  it 
this — '  Hallowed  be  thy  name '  ?  No,  my  brethren. 
Out  of  our  frail  and  yet  sublime  humanity,  the 
demand  that  rises  in  the  earthlier  hours  of  our  religion 
may  be  this — '  Save  my  soul ; '  but,  in  the  most  un- 
earthly moments,  it  is  this  — '  Tell  me  thy  name.' 
We  move  through  a  world  of  mystery ;  and  the 
deepest  question  is :  What  is  the  being  that  is  ever 
near,  sometimes  felt,  never  seen — that  which  has 
haunted  us  from  childhood  with  a  dream  of  some- 
thing surpassingly  fair,  which  has  never  yet  been 
realised — that  which  sweeps  through  the  soul  at  times 


358  CONTEMPORARY  PORTRAITS. 

as  a  desolation,  like  the  blast  from  the  wings  of  the 
Angel  of  Death,  leaving  us  stricken  and  silent  in  our 
loneliness — that  which  has  touched  us  in  our  tenderest 
point,  and  the  flesh  has  quivered  with  agony,  and  our 
mortal  affections  have  shrivelled  up  in  pain — that 
which  comes  to  us  in  aspirations  of  nobleness,  and 
conceptions  of  superhuman  excellence  ?  Shall  we 
say  It  or  He  ?  What  is  It  ?  Who  is  He  ?  Those 
anticipations  of  Immortality  and  God — what  are 
they  ?  Are  they  the  mere  throbbings  of  my  own 
heart,  heard  and  mistaken  for  a  living  something 
beside  me  ?  Are  they  the  sound  of  my  own  wishes, 
echoing  through  the  vast  void  of  nothingness  ?  or 
shall  I  call  them  God,  Father,  Spirit,  Love  ?  A 
living  Being  within  me  or  outside  me  ?  Tell  me  Thy 
Name,  Thou  awful  mystery  of  loveliness  !  This  is  the 
struggle  of  all  earnest  life. 

"  We  come  now  to  the  revelation  of  the  Mystery. 

"  It  was  revealed  by  awe.  Very  significantly  are  we 
told  that  the  Divine  antagonist  seemed,  as  it  were, 
anxious  to  depart  as  the  day  was  about  to  dawn  ; 
and  that  Jacob  held  Him  more  convulsively  fast,  as 
if  aware  that  the  daylight  was  likely  to  rob  him  of 
his  anticipated  blessing,  in  which  there  seems  con- 
cealed a  very  deep  truth.  God  is  approached  more 
nearly  in  that  which  is  indefinite  than  in  that  which 
is  definite  and  distinct.  He  is  felt  in  awe,  and 
wonder  and  worship,  rather  than  in  clear  conceptions. 
There  is  a  sense  in  which  darkness  has  more  of  God 


VERNY  AND  ROBERTSON.  359 

than  light  has.  He  dwells  in  the  thick  darkness. 
Moments  of  tender,  vague  mystery  often  bring  dis- 
tinctly the  feeling  of  His  presence.  When  day 
breaks  and  distinctness  comes,  the  Divine  has  evapo- 
rated from  the  soul  like  morning  dew.  In  sorrow, 
haunted  by  uncertain  presentiments,  we  feel  the 
infinite  around  us.  The  gloom  disperses,  the  world's 
joy  comes  again,  and  it  seems  as  if  God  were 
gone — the  Being  who  had  touched  us  with  a  wither- 
ing hand,  and  wrestled  with  us,  yet  whose  presence, 
even  when  most  terrible,  was  more  blessed  than  His 
absence.  It  is  true,  even  literally,  that  the  darkness 
reveals  God.  Every  morning  God  draws  the  curtains 
of  the  garish  light  across  His  eternity,  and  we  lose 
the  Infinite.  We  look  down  on  earth  instead  of  up 
to  heaven  ;  on  a  narrower  and  more  contracted  spec- 
tacle— that  which  is  examined  by  the  microscope 
when  the  telescope  is  laid  aside — smallness,  instead 
of  vastness.  '  Man  goeth  forth  to  his  work  and  to 
his  labour  until  the  evening ; '  and  in  the  dust  and 
pettiness  of  life  we  seem  to  cease  to  behold  Him  : 
then  at  night  He  undraws  the  curtain  again,  and  we 
see  how  much  of  God  and  eternity  the  bright  distinct 
day  has  hidden  from  us.  Yes,  in  solitary,  silent, 
vague  darkness,  the  Awful  One  is  near. 

"  This  morning,  my  young  brethren,  we  endeavoured 
to  act  on  this  belief — we  met  in  stillness,  before  the  full 
broad  glare  of  day  had  rested  on  our  world.  Your 
first  communion  implored  His  blessing  in  the  hour 


360  CONTEMPORAR  Y  POR  TRAITS. 

which  seems  so  peculiarly  His.  Before  the  dull  and 
deadening  and  earthward  influences  of  the  world  had 
dried  up  the  dew  of  fresh  morning  feeling,  you  tried 
to  fortify  your  souls  with  a  sense  of  His  presence. 
This  night,  before  to-morrow's  light  shall  dawn,  pray 
that  He  will  not  depart  until  He  has  left  upon  your 
hearts  the  blessing  of  a  strength  which  shall  be  yours 
through  the  garish  day,  and  through  dry,  scorching 
life,  even  to  the  close  of  your  day."  l 

We  have  quoted  so  much  at  length  from  this 
sermon,  because  it  exhibits  at  once  the  strength  and 
the  weakness  of  Robertson's  preaching  ;  we  shall 
speak  more  particularly  of  both  in  our  summary  of 
his  character  and  work. 

He  took  part,  as  we  have  said,  in  all  the  great  theo- 
logical controversies  of  his  time.  Catholicism  was 
already  beginning  to  assert  a  strange  ascendancy 
over  the  aristocratic  classes  in  England.  This  fact 
was  not  to  be  got  rid  of  by  the  cry,  "  No  Popery," 
raised  on  all  hands  by  the  orthodox  of  every  shade. 
Robertson  rightly  felt  that  this  tendency  to  return  to 
a  discarded  form  of  religion,  could  only  be  accounted 
for  by  the  existence  of  unsatisfied  religious  needs, 
and  that  it  was  of  far  more  importance  to  discover 
what  these  were,  and  to  try  to  meet  them,  than  to  in- 
dulge in  embittering  controversy.  The  only  argu- 
ment which  really  carries   conviction,  is  that  which 

1  "Jacob's  Wrestling,"  Sermons,  First  Series. 


VERNY  AND  ROBERTSON.  361 

takes  away  from  error  the  admixture  of  truth  by 
which  it  lives,  and  thus  allows  it  no  raisoji  d'etre. 
This  course  Robertson  pursued  with  a  rare  power  of 
intuition,  which  saved  him  from  the  unfairness  of 
party  spirit,  as  is  shown  by  his  liberality  with  respect 
to  Ireland.  He  declared  boldly  that  the  bill  for 
Catholic  Emancipation  had  put  an  end  to  a  monstrous 
system,  and  desired  to  see  it  carried  out  to  its  fullest 
issues,  since  he  held  that  it  was  only  by  religious 
liberty  and  equality  that  Ireland  could  ever  be 
really  attached  to  England,  and  an  effectual  barrier 
be  raised  against  Ultramontanism.1 

On  the  other  hand,  he  makes  no  concession  what- 
ever to  the  Catholic  system.  How  radical  was  his 
disapproval  of  its  principles  appears  in  the  following 
passage  from  a  letter  to  a  friend,  who  was  tempted  to 
forsake  the  Church  of  liberty  and  of  the  Spirit  for  the 
Church  of  external  authority  : 

"  Do  you  believe  in  God  ?  Dare  you  not  trust 
yourself  like  a  child  to  Him  ?  Oh,  what  is  your 
baptism  worth  if  it  has  not  taught  you  that  blessed 
central  truth  of  all — that  He  is  your  Father?  Dare 
you  so  stifle  His  voice  in  your  soul,  which  comes  in 
the  simple  rushings  of  earnest  thought,  and  then  call 
it  conscience  ?  Are  you  sure  that  you  may  not  be 
shutting  out  a  ray  from  Heaven,  although  you  fear  that 
it  is  a  meteor  from  Hell  ?  .  .  .  I  tried  no  arguments 

1  "  Life  and  Letters,"  vol.  ii.  p.  141. 


362  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

against  Romanism,  for  I  feel  that  Romanism  is  only 
an  infinitely  small  and  sensualistic  embodiment  of 
truths — a  living  human  form  shrunk  into  a  mummy, 
with  every  feature  there  hideously  like  life,  especially 
when  it,  by  force  applied  from  without,  by  wires  or 
galvanism,  moves  humanly.  .  .  .  God  made  the  soul 
to  correspond  with  truth.  Truth  is  its  own  evidence, 
as  the  lightning  flash  is,  as  the  blessed  sunlight  is. 
....  Alas  !  alas  !  you  do  not  believe  that  you  have  a 
soul — you  do  not  believe  in  God — you  do  not  believe 
that  His  Spirit  can  find  your  soul — you  believe  in  the 
dial,  and  not  in  the  sun — you  are  not  alone  with 
Christ — you  do  not  feel  the  solitary  yet  humbling 
grandeur  of  being  in  this  vast  universe  alone,  as  He 
was,  with  your  Father.  His  life  is  not  the  pattern  of 
your  life,  and  His  divine  humanity  is  not  the  inter- 
pretation of  the  mysteries  of  your  solitary  being.  You 
cannot  walk  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death  fear- 
lessly, as  David  did,  because  'Thou   art  with  me.' 

You  must  have  a  crowd  of and  a  number  of  other 

good  men  by  some  hundred  thousands  to  assure  you 
that  you  are  not  alone.  All  this  universe  is  God's 
blessed  sacrament,  the  channel  of  His  Spirit  to  your 
soul,  whereof  He  has  selected  two  things  as  types  of 
all  the  rest :  the  commonest  of  all  elements,  water,  and 
the  commonest  of  all  meals,  a  supper,  and  you  cannot 
find  Him  except  in  seven  !  Too  many  or  else  too 
few ;  but  even  in  that  protest  against  the  Protestant 
limitation  of  grace  to  two  channels  I  recognise  a  truth, 
only  distorted  and  petrified  as  usual. 


VERNY  AND  ROBERTSON.  363 

"  Oh,  be  brave  and  wait !  These  are  dark  days — 
lonely  days — and  our  unbelieving  impatience  cannot 
bear  to  wait,  but  must  rashly  and  by  impetuous  steps 
of  our  own,  plunge  after  the  ignis  fatuus  of  light. 
Peace  at  once  !  Light  at  once !  I  cannot  wait  my 
time  and  I  will  not !  I  do  not  say  all  this  as  one  who 
is  utterly  unable  to  comprehend  'the  delusion  of 
people  who  cannot  be  content  with  the  sound  and 
excellent  principles  of  our  incomparable  liturgy.'  I 
only  comprehend  too  well  the  struggles  and  the 
agonies  of  a  soul  that  craves  light  and  cannot  find  it. 
And  as  to  our  '  incomparable  Church/  why  it  does 
not  require  a  prophetic  spirit  to  see  that  in  ten  years 
more  she  must  be  in  fragments,  out  of  which  fragments 
God  will  re-construct  something  for  which  I  am  con- 
tent to  wait,  in  accordance  with  His  usual  plan,  which 
is  to  be  for  ever  evolving  fresh  forms  of  life  out  of  dis- 
solution and  decay.  If  not  in  my  time,  why  then  I 
still  wait.  I  am  alone  now,  and  shall  be  till  I  die,  and 
I  am  not  afraid  to  be  alone  in  the  majesty  of  darkness 
which  His  presence  peoples  with  a  crowd.  I  ask  now 
no  sympathy  but  His.  If  He  should  vouchsafe  to 
give  me  more  I  shall  accept  it  gratefully ;  but  I  am 
content  to  do  without  it,  as  many  of  His  best  and 
bravest  must  do  now.  Why  cannot  you  live  with 
Him  ?  .  .  .  I  have  no  superstitious  evangelical  horror 
of  Romanism,  but — Alas  !  alas  !  for  the  substitution 
of  an  artificial  created  conscience  for  the  sound  and 
healthy  one  of  humanity,  whose  tides  are  distinct  and 


364  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

unmistakable   in    their   noble    music,    like   those    of 
Nature's  ocean  in  its  irresistible  swell ! " 

Vinet  justly  said  that  the  special  doctrines  of 
Catholicism  are  like  the  buoys  which  mark  the  spot 
where  some  precious  cargo  has  been  swallowed  up  by 
the  sea  ;  a  man  must  dive  very  deep  to  discover  the 
treasure.  Robertson  did  so  dive.  Thus,  both  in  his 
letters  and  sermons,  he  shows  that  the  adoration  of 
the  Virgin,  who  is  but  the  personification  of  the 
tenderness  and  compassion  of  Christianity,  gained 
ground  after  the  metaphysics  of  the  fourth  century 
had  thrown  a  veil  over  the  true  humanity  of  Jesus 
Christ.1  The  multiplication  of  sacraments,  which  is 
erroneous  if  we  regard  them  as  ecclesiastical  institu- 
tions, yet  expresses  the  very  legitimate  desire  to  set 
an  impress  of  sacredness  upon  the  entire  life.  The 
idea  of  apostolical  succession  conceals  a  sublime  truth 
— namely,  that  there  ought  to  be,  as  it  were,  an  un- 
broken lineage  of  prophets  and  heroic  saints  through 
all  the  ages.  Luther  is  the  true  successor  of  St. 
Paul.* 

Much  excitement  had  been  caused  throughout 
England  by  the  petitions  for  the  opening  of  the 
Crystal  Palace  on  Sunday,  the  only  day  when  the 

1  "  Life  and  Letters,"  vol.  ii.  pp.  23,  24.  See  "  The  Glory  of  the 
Virgin  Mother,"  Sermons,  Second  Series,  p.  229. 

2  "  Life  and  Letters,"  vol.  ii.  pp.  161,  162. 


FERNY  AND  ROBERTSON.  365 

working  classes  could  visit  it.     A  vast  array  of  pe- 
titions on  the  other  side  was  sent  up  from  all  parts 
of  the  country.     Robertson,  though  opposed  to  the 
opening,  did  not  feel  it  his  duty  to  take  part  in  this 
movement  ;  because  it  seemed  to  him  to  be  based  on 
an  entirely  Jewish  Sabbatarianism.     According  to  his 
custom,  he  preached  on  the  subject,  and  established 
with  singular  logical  clearness  the  true  principles  on 
this  important  question  ;  showing  that  the  legal  dis- 
tinction  between   one    day   and    another    had    been 
abolished  by  Christianity,  but  that  nevertheless  the 
observance  of  Sunday  meets  the  wants  of  the  Chris- 
tian soul  and  of  the  Church.     Writing  to  one  of  his 
opponents,  he  says  :  "  Historically  the  Lord's  day  was 
not  a  transference  of  the  Jewish  Sabbath  at  all  from 
one  day  to  another.      St.    Paul,  in    Rom.  xvi.  5,  6, 
speaks  of  a  religious  non-observance  of  the  Sabbath."1 
He  showed  further  that  it  is  possible  to  imagine 
a  state  of  mind  and  soul  in  which  the  thought  of  God 
should  have  so  thoroughly  permeated  the  life  that 
there  would  be  no  longer  any  necessity  for  setting 
apart  one  particular  day  for  worship.     It  must  be 
admitted,  however,  that  this  is  a  height  of  spirituality 
most  rarely  attained,  and  that   no  one  who  comes 
short  of  it  has  any  right  to  deprive  himself  of  a  means 
of  grace  essential  to  the  well-being  of  his  soul,  and 
to  the  maintenance  of  piety  in  the  world.     He  wrote 

1  "  Life  and  Letters,"  vol.  ii.  p.  112, 


366  CONTEMPORAR  Y  POR  TRAITS. 

again  to  a  friend  :  "  I  must  reverse  all  my  conceptions 
of  Christianity — which  is  the  mind  of  Christ — before 
I  can  believe  the  Evangelico-Judaic  theory ;  which  is 

that  Mr. may,  without  infringement  of  the  Fourth 

Commandment,  drive  his  carriage  to  church  twice 
every  Sunday,  but  a  poor  man  may  not  drive  his 
cart;  that  the  two  or  three  hours  spent  in  the  evening 
by  a  noble  lord  over  his  venison,  champagne,  dessert, 
and  coffee,  are  no  desecration  of  the  command ;  but 
the  same  number  spent  by  an  artisan  over  cheese  and 
beer  in  a  tea-garden  will  bring  down  God's  judgment 
on  the  land.  It  is  worse  than  absurd.  It  is  the  very 
spirit  of  Pharisaism,  which  our  Lord  rebuked  so 
sternly."  l  He  insists  strongly,  nevertheless,  on  the 
benefit  of  the  Sunday,  and  declares  that  no  one  who 
loves  his  country  could  consent  to  encourage  the 
regular  and  public  violation  of  that  day.  He  cannot 
approve,  however,  of  legislative  measures,  taken  in 
the  name  of  a  patched-up  Judaism,  to  restrict  the 
liberty  of  souls.  Any  one  who  knows  England  can 
understand  what  indignation  words  like  these  would 
excite. 

Another  question  arose,  on  which  the  conflict  of 
opinion  ran  no  less  high.  I  refer  to  the  Gorham  case. 
It  is  well  known  that  Mr.  Gorham,  as  a  clergyman  of 
the  Church  of  England,  had  taught  doctrines  alto- 
gether opposed  to  the  notion  of  baptismal  regenera- 

r"  Life  and  Letters,"  vol.  ii.  p.  113. 


VERNY  AND  ROBERTSON,  367 

tion.  A  sharp  discussion  arose,  which  led  to  legal 
proceedings.  The  futility  of  such  measures,  where 
questions  of  doctrine  are  concerned,  was  soon  made 
evident.  The  Court  of  Queen's  Bench  gave  a  decision 
which  settled  nothing,  but  which  inclined  decidedly 
to  the  side  of  baptismal  regeneration.  Robertson,  in 
his  correspondence,  and  in  his  two  sermons  on  the 
subject,  took  an  intermediate  position.  He  could  not 
sanction  the  superstitious  idea  which  attributes  to  the 
material  element  a  magical  virtue  over  the  soul,  but 
neither  could  he  accept  the  strict  notion  of  Calvinism, 
that  baptism  receives  its  value  only  from  conversion. 
According  to  Robertson,  baptism  does  not  make  but 
declares  us  sons  of  God  ;  recognising  in  the  redeemed 
of  Christ  this  Divine  adoption.  It  is  the  proclama- 
tion of  pre-existing  rights,  just  as  the  ceremony  of 
coronation  does  not  confer  the  royal  dignity,  but 
declares  it  to  the  world. 

Robertson  showed  himself,  in  relation  to  this  ques- 
tion, the  almost  bitter  enemy  of  all  religious  forms 
which  are  based  upon  an  individual  profession  of  / 
faith.  This  injustice  arises  from  a  leading  defect  in  1 
his  theology.  He  had  too  much  confidence  in  human 
nature  as  it  is,  and  did  not  sufficiently  recognise  its 
fallen  state,  and  the  radical  change  wrought  in  it  by 
sin.  Of  this  we  shall  have  to  speak  further  when  we 
come  to  analyse  his  theology,  so  faithfully  reflected  in 
his  preaching. 


368  CONTEMPORAR  Y  POR TRAITS. 

III. 

There  were  three  theological  questions  which  chiefly 
exercised  Robertson's  mind. 

1.  The  method  of  arriving  at  certainty  on  matters 
of  religion,  a  problem  inseparable  from  the  question 
of  inspiration. 

2.  The  true  idea  of  redemption  and  expiation. 

3.  The  nature  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  His  relation  to 
the  Father. 

On  all  these  points  he  repudiated  the  exaggerations 
of  current  theology,  but  he  also  failed  to  hold  the 
even  balance  of  truth,  and  was  carried  by  the  strength 
of  his  reaction  against  what  seemed  to  him  the  errors 
of  orthodoxy,  too  far  in  the  opposite  direction. 

In  relation  to  the  first  question — certainty  in  mat- 
ters of  religion — his  teaching  was  as  far  removed  as 
possible  from  anything  like  Rationalism.  The  ten- 
dency of  ultra-orthodoxy  is,  in  truth,  more  rational- 
istic than  such  a  faith  as  Robertson's.  That  school 
does,  in  fact,  regard  revelation  rather  as  the  commu- 
nication of  certain  mysteries  about  God,  than  as  the 
living  manifestation  of  Him  in  a  Divine  history,  find- 
ing its  centre  in  the  person  of  Jesus  Christ.  It  seeks 
an  intellectual  rather  than  a  moral  adherence,  and 
attaches  paramount  importance  to  doctrines,  the 
authority  of  which  it  establishes  on  the  ground  of  an 
inspired  book  and  of  attested  miracle.  I  know,  in- 
deed, that  it  seeks  to  correct  this  latent  Rationalism 


- 


VERNY  AND  ROBERTSON.  369 

by  forbidding  inquiry,  and  insisting  on  the  blind  ac- 
ceptance of  orthodox  dicta  ;  but  the  fact  remains  that 
with  a  certain  orthodox  party  revelation  is  regarded 
as  essentially  a  system  of  doctrine. 

Robertson  starts  from  quite  other  premises.  He 
differs  both  from  the  Jew,  who  requires  a  sign,  and 
the  Greek,  who  seeks  after  wisdom.  In  other  words, 
he  does  not  derive  his  faith  from  sight ;  either  the 
sight  of  the  eyes  or  that  of  the  reasoning  mind.  It 
is  something  both  higher  and  deeper.  It  is  the  com- 
munication of  the  Divine  Spirit  to  the  spiritual  and 
higher  nature  in  man.  He  says,  "  If  there  has  been 
a  single  principle  which  I  have  taught  more  emphati- 
cally than  any  other,  it  is  that  not  by  reason — mean- 
ing by  reason  the  understanding — but  by  the  spirit — 
that  is,  the  heart,  trained  in  meekness  and  love  by 
God's  Spirit — truth  can  be  judged  of  at  all.  I  hold 
that  the  attempt  to  rest  Christianity  upon  miracles 
and  fulfilments  of  prophecy  is  essentially  the  vilest 
rationalism  ;  as  if  the  trained  intellect  of  a  lawyer, 
which  can  investigate  evidence,  were  that  to  .  which 
is  trusted  the  soul's  salvation  ;  or,  as  if  the  evidence 
of  the  senses  were  more  sure  than  the  intuitions 
of  the  spirit,  to  which  spiritual  truths  almost  alone 
appeal."  l 

One  of  his  finest  sermons  is  devoted  to  this  subject 
— the  sermon  on  "  God's  Revelation  of  Heaven."    We 

1  "  Life  and  Letters,"  vol.  ii.  p.  149. 
25 


370  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

quote  his  own  beautiful  language  on  the  verse,  "  Eye 
hath  not  seen,  nor  ear  heard,  neither  hath  it  entered 
into  the  heart  of  man  to  conceive,  the  things  which 
God  hath  prepared  for  them  that  love  him." 

"  There  is  a  life  of  mere  sensation.  The  degree  ot 
its  enjoyment  depends  upon  fineness  of  organisation. 
The  pleasures  of  sense  arise  from  the  vibration  of  a 
nerve,  or  the  thrilling  of  a  muscle  —  nothing  higher. 

"The  highest  pleasure  of  sensation  comes  through 
the  eye.  She  ranks  above  all  the  rest  of  the  senses 
in  dignity.  He  whose  eye  is  so  refined  by  discipline 
that  he  can  repose  with  pleasure  upon  the  serene 
outline  of  beautiful  form,  has  reached  the  purest  of 
the  sensational  raptures. 

"Now  the  Corinthians  could  appreciate  this.  Theirs 
was  the  land  of  beauty.  They  read  the  apostle's 
letter,  surrounded  by  the  purest  conceptions  of  art. 
In  the  orders  of  architecture,  the  most  richly  graceful 
of  all  columnar  forms  receives  its  name  from  Corinth. 
And  yet  it  was  to  [these  men,  living  in  the  very  midst 
of  the  chastely  beautiful,  upon  whom  the  apostle 
emphatically  urged,  ' Eye  hath  not  seen  the  things 
which  God  hath  prepared  for  them  that  love  him.' 

"Let  us  not  depreciate  what  God  has  given.  There 
is  a  rapture  in  gazing  on  this  wondrous  world.  There 
is  a  joy  in  contemplating  the  manifold  forms  in  which 
the  All  Beautiful  has  concealed  His  essence,  —  the 
living  garment  in  which  the  Invisible  has  robed  His 
mysterious  loveliness.      In    every   aspect  of  Nature 


VERNY  AND  ROBERTSON.  371 

there  is  joy ;  whether  it  be  the  purity  of  virgin 
morning,  or  the  sombre  gray  of  a  day  of  clouds,  or 
the  solemn  pomp  and  majesty  of  night;  whether  it  be 
the  chaste  lines  of  the  crystal,  or  the  waving  outline  of 
distant  hills,  tremulously  visible  through  dim  vapours  ; 
the  minute  petals  of  the  fringed  daisy,  or  the  over- 
hanging form  of  mysterious  forests.  It  is  a  pure 
delight  to  see, 

"  But  all  this  is  bounded.  The  eye  can  only  reach 
the  finite  beautiful.  It  does  not  scan  *  the  King  in 
his  beauty,  nor  the  land  that  is  very  far  off.'  .  .  . 

"  No  scientific  analysis  can  discover  the  truths  of 
God.  Science  cannot  give  a  revelation.  Science 
proceeds  upon  observation.  It  submits  everything  to 
the  experience  of  the  senses.  Its  law,  expounded  by 
its  great  lawgiver,  is,  that  if  you  would  ascertain  its 
truth  you  must  see,  feel,  taste.  Experiment  is  the 
test  of  truth.  Now,  you  cannot  by  searching  find 
out  the  Almighty  to  perfection,  nor  a  single  one  of 
the  blessed  truths  He  has  to  communicate.  .  .  . 

"  Eternal  truth  is  not  reached  by  hearsay — 'Ear  hath 
not  heard  the  things  which  God  hath  prepared  for 
them  that  love  him.' 

"  No  revelation  can  be  adequately  given  by  the 
address  of  man  to  man,  whether  by  writing  or  orally, 
even  if  he  be  put  into  the  possession  of  the  truth 
itself.  For  all  such  revelations  must  be  made  through 
words ;  and  words  are  but  counters  —  the  coins  of 
intellectual  exchange.      There  is  as  little  resemblance 


372  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

between  the  silver  coin  and  the  bread  it  purchases,  as 
between  the  word  and  the  thing  it  stands  for.  Looking 
at  the  coin,  the  form  of  the  loaf  does  not  suggest 
itself.  Listening  to  the  word,  you  do  not  perceive 
the  idea  for  which  it  stands,  unless  you  are  already  in 
possession  of  it.  .  .  . 

"  Now  see  what  a  hearsay  religion  is.  There  are 
men  who  believe  on  authority.  Their  minister  believes 
all  this  Christianity  true :  therefore  so  do  they.  He 
calls  this  doctrine  essential  :  they  echo  it.  Some 
thousands  of  years  ago  men  communed  with  God  ; 
they  have  heard  this  and  are  content  it  should  be  so. 
They  have  heard  with  the  hearing  of  the  ear  that 
God  is  love — that  the  ways  of  holiness  are  ways  of 
pleasantness,  and  all  her  paths  peace.  But  a  hearsay 
belief  saves  not.  The  Corinthian  philosophers  heard 
Paul— the  Pharisees  heard  Christ.  How  much  did 
the  ear  convey  ?  To  thousands  exactly  nothing. 
He  alone  believes  truth  who  feels  it.  He  alone  has  a 
religion  whose  soul  knows  by  experience  that  to 
serve  God  and  know  Him  is  the  richest  treasure. 
And  unless  truth  come  to  you,  not  in  word  only,  but 
in  power  besides — authoritative  because  true,  not  true 
because  authoritative — there  has  been  no  real  revela- 
tion made  to  you  from  God.  Truth  is  not  discover- 
able by  the  heart — 'neither  have  entered  into  the  heart 
of  man  the  things  which  God  hath  prepared  for  them 
that  love  him.* 

"  The  heart.  Two  things  we  refer  to  this  source  : 
the  power  of  imagining,  and  the  power  of  loving. 


VERNY  AND  ROBERTSON.  373 

"  Imagination  is  distinct  from  the  mere  dry  faculty 
of  reasoning.  Imagination  is  creative  —  it  is  an 
immediate  intuition;  not  a  logical  analysis — we  call 
it  popularly  a  kind  of  inspiration.  Now  imagination 
is  a  power  of  the  heart  —  great  thoughts  originate 
from  a  large  heart — a  man  must  have  a  heart  or  he 
never  could  create. 

"  It  is  a  grand  thing  when,  in  the  stillness  of  the 
soul,  thought  bursts  into  flame  and  the  intuitive  vision 
comes  like  an  inspiration  ;  when  breathing  thoughts 
clothe  themselves  in  burning  words,  winged  as  it  were 
with  lightning — or  when  a  great  law  of  the  universe 
reveals  itself  to  the  mind  of  genius,  and  where  all 
was  darkness,  his  single  word  bids  light  be,  and  all 
is  order  where  chaos  and  confusion  were  before.  Or 
when  the  truths  of  human  nature  shape  themselves 
forth  in  the  creative  fancies  of  one,  like  the  myriad- 
minded  poet,  and  you  recognise  the  rare  power  of 
heart  which  sympathises  with  and  can  reproduce  all 
that  is  found  in  man. 

"But  all  this  is  nothing  more  than  what  the  material 
man  can  achieve.  The  most  ethereal  creations  of 
fantastic  fancy  were  shaped  by  a  mind  that  could 
read  the  life  of  Christ,  and  then  blaspheme  the 
adorable.  .  .  . 

"There  is  more  in  the  heart  of  man — it  has  the 
power  of  affection.  The  highest  moment  known  on 
earth  by  the  merely  natural,  is  that  in  which  the 
mysterious   union  of  heart  with   heart  is  felt 


374  CONTEMPORAR  Y  PORTRAITS. 

This  is  the  purest,  serenest  ecstasy  of  the  merely 
human  —  more  blessed  than  any  sight  that  can  be 
presented  to  the  eye,  or  any  sound  that  can  be 
given  to  the  ear :  more  sublime  than  the  sublimest 
dream  ever  conceived  by  genius  in  its  most  gifted 
hour,  when  the  freest  way  was  given  to  the  shaping 
spirit  of  imagination. 

"This  has  entered  into  the  heart  of  man,  yet  this  is 
of  the  lower  still.  It  attains  not  to  the  things  pre- 
pared by  God — it  dimly  shadows  them.  Human  love 
is  but  the  faint  type  of  that  surpassing  blessedness 
which  belongs  to  those  who  love  God. 

"  We  pass  therefore  to  the  Nature  and  Laws  of 
Revelation.  .  .  . 

"Now  the  Spirit  of  God  lies  touching,  as  it  were,  the 
soul  of  man — ever  around  and  near.  On  the  out- 
side of  earth  man  stands  with  the  boundless  heaven 
above  him:  nothing  between  him  and  space — space 
around  him  and  above  him — the  confines  of  the  sky 
touching  him.  So  is  the  spirit  of  man  to  the  Spirit 
of  the  Ever  Near.  They  mingle.  In  every  man  this 
is  true.  The  spiritual  in  him,  by  which  he  might 
become  a  recipient  of  God,  may  be  dulled,  deadened 
by  a  life  of  sense,  but  in  this  world  never  lost.  All 
men  are  not  spiritual  men  ;  but  all  have  spiritual 
sensibilities  which  might  awake.  All  that  is  wanted 
is  to  become  conscious  of  the  nearness  of  God.  God 
has  placed  men  here  to  feel  after  Him  if  haply  they 
may  find  Him,  albeit  He  be  not  far  from  any  one  of 


VERNY  AND  ROBERTSON.  375 

them.  Our  souls  float  in  the  immeasurable  ocean  of 
Spirit.  God  lies  around  us  :  at  any  moment  we  may 
be  conscious  of  the  contact. 

"  The  conditio?i  upon  which  this  Self-Revelation  of 
the  Spirit  is  made  to  man,  is  love.  These  things  are 
1  prepared  for  them  that  love  Him,'  or,  which  is  the 
same  thing,  revealed  to  those  who  have  the  mind  of 
Christ."  1 

It  appears  to  us  that  Robertson  does  not  sufficiently 
recognise  the  direct,  special,  mystical  operation  of  the 
Spirit  of  God  in  illuminating  the  soul.  He  relies 
too  much  on  the  original  relations  of  man  with  God, 
and  overlooks  to  some  extent  the  necessity  for  the 
reparative  work  of  redeeming  love.  This  is  the 
defect  that  runs  through  all  his  teaching.  We  would 
guard  against  being  misunderstood.  He  very  dis- 
tinctly recognises  the  miraculous,  and  in  the  sermon 
on  the  doubt  of  Thomas,  lays  special  emphasis  on  the 
fact  that  the  resurrection  of  Christ  alone  put  to  flight 
the  persistent  doubt  of  humanity  as  to  the  future 
life. 

With  regard  to  the  divine  authority  of  the  Scrip- 
tures, he  repudiated  strongly  the  idea  of  verbal 
inspiration.  He  insisted  that  the  co-existence  of  the 
human  element  with  the  divine  was  indispensable 
in  Holy  Scripture,  and  showed  what  difficulties 
would  have  been  presented  by  a  revelation  couched 

1 "  God's  Revelation  of  Heaven."    Sermons.     First  Series. 


376  CONTEMPORARY  PORTRAITS. 

in  the  language  of  exact  science,  at  a  time  when  such 
a  mode  of  representation  would  necessarily  have  been 
regarded  as  erroneous.  His  sermon  on  inspiration  is 
not  a  theological  dissertation ;  it  dwells  chiefly  on 
the  practical  and  positive  aspect  of  the  question, 
showing  how  everything  in  Scripture  tends  towards 
Christ,  and  how  all  receives  from  Him  its  sacred 
evidence  and  its  beneficent  authority.  He  dwells 
with  fervid  eloquence  on  the  universal  and  incom- 
parable power  of  the  Bible. 

"  The  Jews,"  he  says,  "  have  been  for  eighteen 
hundred  years  a  byword  and  a  reproach.  .  .  .  Yet 
the  words  which  came  from  Israel's  prophets  have 
been  the  life-blood  of  the  world's  devotions.  And  the 
teachers,  the  psalmists,  the  prophets,  and  the  law- 
givers of  this  despised  nation  spoke  out  truths  that 
have  struck  the  key-note  of  the  heart  of  man  ;  and 
this  not  because  they  were  of  Jewish,  but  just  because 
they  were  of  universal  application. 

"This  collection  of  books  has  been  to  the  world  what 
no  other  book  has  ever  been  to  a  nation.  States  have 
been  founded  on  its  principles.  Kings  rule  by  a 
compact  based  on  it.  Men  hold  the  Bible  in  their 
hands  when  they  prepare  to  give  solemn  evidence 
affecting  life,  death,  or  property ;  the  sick  man  is 
almost  afraid  to  die  unless  the  Book  be  within  reach 
of  his  hands  ;  the  battle-ship  goes  into  action  with 
one  on  board  whose  office  is  to  expound  it  ;  its 
prayers,  its  psalms   are  the  language  which   we  use 


VERNY  AND  ROBERTSON.  377- 

when  we  speak  to  God  ;  eighteen  centuries  have 
found  no  holier,  no  diviner  language.  If  ever  there 
has  been  a  prayer  or  a  hymn  enshrined  in  the  heart 
of  a  nation,  you  are  sure  to  find  its  basis  in  the  Bible. 
The  very  translation  of  it  has  fixed  language  and 
settled  the  idioms  of  speech.  Germany  and  England 
speak  as  they  speak  because  the  Bible  was  translated. 
It  has  made  the  most  illiterate  peasant  more  familiar 
with  the  history,  customs,  and  geography  of  ancient 
Palestine  than  with  the  locality  of  his  own  country. 
Men  who  know  nothing  of  the  Grampians,  of  Snow- 
don,  or  of  Skiddaw,  are  at  home  in  Zion,  the  lake  of 
Gennesareth,  or  among  the  rills  of  Carmel.  People 
who  know  little  about  London,  know  by  heart  the 
places  in  Jerusalem  where  those  blessed  feet  trod 
which  were  nailed  to  the  cross.  Men  who  know 
nothing  of  the  architecture  of  a  Christian  cathedral, 
can  yet  tell  you  all  about  the  pattern  of  the  Holy 
Temple.  Even  this  shows  us  the  influence  of  the 
Bible.  The  orator  holds  a  thousand  men  for  half  an 
hour  breathless — a  thousand  men  as  one  listening  to 
his  single  word.  But  this  word  of  God  has  held  a 
thousand  nations  for  thrice  a  thousand  years  spell- 
bound ;  held  them  by  an  abiding  power,  even  the 
universality  of  its  truth  ;  and  we  feel  it  to  be  no 
more  a  collection  of  books,  but  the  Book."  J 

The  doctrine  of  expiation  was  an  absorbing  subject 

1  "  Sermon  on  Inspiration."     First  Series,  pp.  302,  303. 


378  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

of  thought  with  Robertson,  as  is  evident  both  from 
his  correspondence  and  his  sermons.  It  must  be 
admitted  that  this  was  a  subject  very  imperfectly 
treated  in  the  current  literature  of  the  religious  revival 
in  England.  Salvation  was  represented  as  the  pay- 
ment of  an  infinite  debt  by  infinite  suffering.  I  need 
not  repeat  the  observations  already  made  in  reference 
to  this  view.  It  is  idle  to  attempt  to  defend  the 
dangerous  exaggerations  of  the  evangelical  school. 
In  order  to  justify  this  great  religious  movement,  its 
champions  appeal  to  the  writings  of  its  most  mode- 
rate theologians,  much  in  the  same  way  that  the  more 
elevated  minds  among  the  Catholics  quote  Bossuet's 
"  Exposition  de  la  Foi."  But  in  judging  of  the  dis- 
tinctive and  characteristic  principles  of  a  theology, 
we  must  test  it,  not  by  the  writings  of  wise  and  able 
men,  who  present  it  softened,  modified,  all  but  trans- 
figured through  the  medium  of  their  own  genius,  but 
by  its  effects  on  the  preaching  and  current  literature 
of  the  day,  and  on  the  religious  life  of  the  people.  It 
is  certain  that  the  popular  doctrine  of  expiation,  in 
circles  where  evangelical  views  predominated,  was  as 
we  have  described  it.  It  taught  that  the  Divine 
anger  was  appeased  by  the  momentary  damnation  of 
Christ.  Faith  was  simply  the  acceptance  of  a  purely 
external  imputation.  This  it  was  that  chafed  and 
irritated  a  conscience  like  that  of  Robertson,  and  led 
him  into  an  exaggerated  reaction  against  his  early 
convictions.      In    one   of  his   letters   he   says :    "  It 


VERNY  AND  ROBERTSON.  379 

appears  to  me  that  Protestantism  throws  upon  the 
intellect  the  work  of  healing,  which  can  only  be  per- 
formed by  the  heart.  It  comes  with  its  parchment, 
signed,  sealed,  and  delivered,  making  over  heaven  to 
you  by  a  legal  bond,  gives  its  receipt  in  full,  makes  a 
debtor  and  creditor  account,  clears  up  the  whole  by  a 
most  business-like  arrangement : 

Cr.  Dr. 

Infinite.  Infinite. 

"And  when  this  Shylock-like  affair,  with  its  scales 
and  weights,  is  concluded,  it  bids  you  be  sure  that  the 
most  rigorous  justice  and  the  most  wanton  cruelty 
can  want  no  more.  Whereupon  selfishness  shrewdly 
casts  up  the  account  and  says  :  '  Audited,  I  am  safe!' 
Nay,  it  even  has  a  gratitude  to  Him  who  has  borne 
the  pain  instead  ;  a  very  low  kind  of  affection  ;  the 
same,  differing  only  in  degree,  which  young  Peel  felt 
for  Byron,  when  he  volunteered  to  accept  half  the 
blows  which  a  young  tyrant  was  administering.  The 
love  which  is  only  gratitude  for  escape  from  pain  is  a 
very  poor  love.  It  does  not  open  the  heart  wide,  and 
accordingly,  basing  his  hopes  only  on  a  quid  pro  quo,  a 
sinner's  penitence  is  half  selfish,  and  has  rarely  in  it 
any  of  that  glorious  abandon  which,  whether  wisely 
directed  or  not,  has  so  marked  the  Roman  penitence, 
and  which  we  explain  away  by  saying,  it  is  work  done 
to  win  heaven  by  merit.  The  Protestant  penitent,  if 
the  system  succeeds,  repents  in  his  arm-chair,  and  does 
no  noble  deed  such  as  boundless    love  could    alone 


380  CONTEMPORAR  Y  POR  TRAITS. 

inspire.  He  reforms,  and  is  very  glad  that  broken- 
hearted remorse  is  distrust  of  God,  becomes  a  prosaic 
Pharisee,  and  patronises  missionary  societies,  and  is 
all  safe,  which  is  the  one  great  point  in  his  religion."  l 

In  these  strong  utterances  we  must  make  allow- 
ance for  Robertson's  peculiar  temperament.  This 
is  clearly  not  a  calm  and  impartial  judgment  ;  it  is 
a  passionate  outburst  of  indignation  against  the  most 
obnoxious  aspect  of  the  extreme  orthodox  school.  In 
another  letter  he  says  :  "  The  difference  between  my 
views  and  those  of  the  current  orthodoxy  does  not  lie 
in  the  question  of  the  atonement — we  agree  in  this — 
but  in  the  question  zvhat  in  that  atonement  was  the 
element  that  satisfied  God  ?  They  say  pain.  I  say, 
because  I  think  the  Scriptures  say  so,  the  surrender 
of  self-will,  as  is  clearly  and  distinctly  asserted  in 
John  x.  17,  and  also  in  Hebrews  x.  5,  6,  7,  10,  where 
the  distinction  is  drawn  between  the  sacrifices  of 
blood  and  suffering,  which  were  mere  butchery,  and 
the  sacrifice  which  atones,  in  this  special  point;  that 
one  is  moral,  an  act  of  will ;  the  other  immoral, 
merely  physical,  and  therefore  worthless."  2 

Robertson  frequently  treated  this  great  subject  in 
his  sermons.  We  find  the  fullest  expression  of  his 
views  in  the  sermon  entitled,  "  Caiaphas'  View  of 
Vicarious   Sacrifice."      He   takes    as    his    text    the 


1  "  Life  and  Letters,"  vol.  i.  pp.  304,  305. 

2  "  Life  and  Letters,"  vol.  ii.  p.  139. 


VERNY  AND  ROBERTSON.  381 

remarkable  words,  "  Ye  know  nothing  at  all ;  nor 
consider  that  it  is  expedient  that  one  man  should 
die  for  the  people,  that  the  whole  nation  perish  not. 
And  this  spake  he  not  of  himself,  etc." 

The  preacher  shows  that  there  is  a  false  and 
perverted  sense  of  these  words,  and  it  is  in  this  sense 
that  Caiaphas  uses  them;  while  they  have  at  the 
same  time  a  true  and  Divine  meaning,  which  is  that 
accepted  by  St.  John.  We  would  gladly  quote  the 
whole  of  this  remarkable  sermon,  one  of  the  most 
original  and  powerful  which  Robertson  ever  preached, 
but  space  forbids.  We  may  cite  one  passage,  in 
which  he  describes  the  spirit  of  Caiaphas  and  of  all 
the  men  of  his  school. 

"  The  first  falsity  in  the  human  statement  of  the 
truth  of  vicarious  sacrifice  is  its  injustice.  Some  one 
said,  The  accused  is  innocent.  The  reply  was,  Better 
that  one  should  die  than  many.  '  It  is  expedient 
for  us  that  one  man  should  die  for  the  people,  and 
that  the  whole  nation  perish  not.'  It  was  simply 
with  Caiaphas  a  question  of  numbers  :  the  unjust 
expediency  of  wresting  the  law  a  little  to  do  much 
apparent  good.  The  reply  to  that  question  was  plain. 
Expediency  cannot  obliterate  right  and  wrong.  Ex- 
pediency may  choose  the  best  possible  when  the 
conceivable  best  is  not  attainable  ;  but  in  right  and 
wrong  there  is  no  better  and  best.  Thou  shalt  not 
do  wrong.  Thou  must  not :  you  may  not  tell  a  lie  to 
save  life.     Better  that  the  whole  Jewish  nation  should 


382  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

perish  than  that  a  Jewish  legislature  should  steep  its 
hand  in  the  blood  of  one  innocent.  It  is  not  expedient 
to  do  injustice.  .  .  . 

"  No  man  would  justify  the  parent,  pursued  in  his 
chariot  by  wolves  over  Siberian  snows,  who  throws 
out  one  of  his  children  to  the  pack  that  the  rest  may 
escape  while  their  fangs  are  buried  in  their  victim. 
You  feel  at  once  expediency  has  no  place  here.  Life 
is  a  trifle  compared  with  law.  Better  that  all  should 
perish  by  a  visitation  of  God  than  that  they  should  be 
saved  by  one  murder. 

"  I  do  not  deny  that  this  aspect  has  been  given  to 
the  sacrifice  of  Christ.  It  has  been  represented  as  if 
the  majesty  of  Law  demanded  a  victim  ;  and  so  as 
it  glutted  its  insatiate  thirst,  one  victim  would  do  as 
well  as  another — the  fairer  and  the  more  innocent  the 
better.  It  has  been  exhibited  as  if  Eternal  Love 
resolved  in  fury  to  strike,  and  so,  as  He  had  His  blow, 
it  mattered  not  whether  it  fell  on  the  whole  world  or 
on  the  precious  head  of  His  own  chosen  Son. 

"  Unitarianism  has  represented  the  scriptural  view 
in  this  way ;  or  rather,  perhaps,  we  should  say,  it  has 
been  so  represented  to  Unitarians  ;  and  from  a  view 
so  horrible  no  wonder  if  Unitarianism  has  recoiled. 
But  it  is  not  our  fault  if  some  blind  defenders  of  the 
truth  have  converted  the  self-devotion  of  Love  into  a 
Brahminical  sacrifice.  If  the  work  of  redemption  be 
defended  from  parallels  drawn  from  the  most  atrocious 
records   and   principles   of  heathenism,   let   not   the 


VERNY  AND  ROBERTSON.  383 

fault  be  laid  upon  the  Bible.  We  disclaim  that  as 
well  as  they.  It  makes  God  a  Caiaphas — it  makes 
Him  adopt  the  words  of  Caiaphas  in  the  sense  of 
Caiaphas.  It  represents  Him  in  terms  which  better 
describe  the  ungoverned  rage  of  Saul,  missing  his 
stroke  at  David,  who  has  offended,  and  in  disap- 
pointed fury  dashing  his  javelin  at  his  own  son 
Jonathan. 

"  You  must  not  represent  the  atonement  as  depend- 
ing on  the  justice  of  unrighteous  expediency. 

"This  side  of  viewing  the  truth  was  the  side  of 
selfishness.  It  was  not  even  the  calm  resolve  of  men 
balancing  whether  it  be  better  for  one  to  die  or  many  ; 
but  whether  it  is  better  that  He  or  we  should  perish. 
It  is  conceivable,  in  the  case  supposed  above,  that  a 
parent  in  the  horrible  dilemma  should  be  enough 
bewildered  to  resolve  to  sacrifice  one  rather  than  lose 
all  ;  but  it  is  not  conceivable  that  the  doubt  in  his 
mind  should  be  this,  Shall  /  and  the  rest  perish,  or 
this  one  ? — yet  this  was  the  spirit  in  which  the  party 
of  Caiaphas  spoke.  The  Romans  will  come  and  take 
away  our  place  and  our  nation. 

"And  this  spirit,  too,  is  in  human  nature.  The 
records  of  antiquity  are  full  of  it.  If  a  fleet  could  not 
sail,  it  was  assumed  that  the  deities  were  offended. 
The  purest  and  tenderest  maiden  of  the  royal  house- 
hold was  selected  to  bleed  upon  the  altar :  and  when 
the  sharp  knife  passed  to  her  innocent  heart,  this  was 
the  feeling  in  the  bosom  of  those  stern  and  unrelent- 


384  CONTEMPORARY  PORTRAITS. 

ing  warriors — of  the  blood  and  of  the  stock  of  Caia- 
phas — better  she  should  suffer  than  we. 

"  This  maybe  the  way  in  which  the  sacrifice  of  Christ 
is  regarded  by  us.  There  is  a  kind  of  acquiescence  in 
the  atonement  which  is  purely  selfish.  The  more 
bloody  the  representation  of  the  character  of  God,  the 
greater,  of  course,  the  satisfaction  in  feeling  sheltered 
from  it.  The  more  Wrath  instead  of  Love  is  believed 
to  be  the  Divine  name,  the  more  may  a  man  find  joy 
in  believing  that  he  is  safe.  It  is  the  theory  of  the 
Siberian  story  :  the  innocent  has  glutted  the  wolves, 
and  we  may  pursue  our  journey  in  safety.  Christ  has 
suffered,  and  I  am  safe.  He  bare  the  agony,  I  take 
the  reward.  I  may  now  live  with  impunity  ;  and,  of 
course,  it  is  very  easy  to  call  acquiescence  in  that 
arrangement  humility,  and  to  take  credit  for  the 
abnegation  of  self-righteousness ;  but  whoever  can 
acquiesce  in  that  thought  chiefly  in  reference  to  per- 
sonal safety,  and,  without  desiring  to  share  the  Re- 
deemer's cross,  aspire  to  enjoy  the  comforts  and 
benefits  of  the  Redeemer's  sacrifice,  has  but  some- 
thing of  the  spirit  of  Caiaphas  after  all,  the  spirit 
which  contentedly  sacrifices  another  for  self — selfish- 
ness assuming  the  form  of  wisdom. 

"  We  pass  now  to  the  prophetic  or  hidden  spirit,  in 
which  these  words  are  true.  I  observe,  first,  that 
vicarious  sacrifice  is  the  Law  of  Being.  .  .  . 

"  The  Highest  Man  recognised  that  law,  and  joyfully 
embraced  it  as  the  law  of  His  existence.     It  was  the 


VERNY  AND  ROBERTSON.  385 

consciousness  of  His  surrender  to  that  as  God's  will, 
and  the  voluntariness  of  the  act,  which  made  it  sacri- 
fice. Hear  Him  :  '  No  man  taketh  my  life  from  me  : 
I  have  power  to  lay  it  down,  and  I  have  power  to  take 
it  up  again.'  'This  commandment  have  I  received 
from  my  Father.'  .  .  . 

"  We  go  beyond  this,  however.  It  was  not  merely  a 
sacrifice,  it  was  a  sacrifice  for  sin.  '  His  soul  was 
made  an  offering  for  sin.'  Neither  was  it  only  a 
sacrifice  for  sin — it  was  a  sacrifice  for  the  world's 
sin.  .  .  . 

"  Let  no  man  say  that  Christ  bore  the  wrath  of  God. 
Let  no  man  say  that  God  was  angry  with  His  Son. 
We  are  sometimes  told  of  a  mysterious  anguish  which 
Christ  endured,  the  consequence  of  divine  wrath,  the 
sufferings  of  a  heart  laden  with  the  conscience  of  the 
world's  transgressions,  which  He  was  bearing  as  if 
they  were  His  own  sins.  Do  not  add  to  the  Bible 
what  is  not  in  the  Bible.  The  Redeemer's  conscience 
was  not  bewildered  to  feel  that  as  His  own,  which  was 
not  His  own.  He  suffered  no  wrath  of  God.  Twice 
came  the  voice  from  heaven,  '  This  is  my  beloved 
Son  in  whom  I  am  well  pleased!  There  was  seen  an 
angel  strengthening  Him.  Nay,  even  to  the  last, 
never  did  the  consciousness  of  purity  and  the  Father's 
love  forsake  Him.  '  Father,  into  thy  hands  I  com- 
mend my  spirit.' 

"  Christ  came  into  collision  with  the  world's  evil,  and 
He  bore  the  penalty  of  that  daring.  .  .  . 

26 


386  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

"  The  Redeemer  bore  imputed  sin.  He  bore  the 
penalty  of  others'  sin.  He  was  punished.  Did  He 
bear  the  anger  of  the  Most  High  ?  Was  His  the  hell 
of  an  accusing  conscience  ?  In  the  name  of  Him  who 
is  God,  not  Caiaphas,  never.  .  .  . 

"  The  second  idea  which  it  behoves  us  to  master  is 
the  world's  sin.  The  Apostle  John  always  viewed  'sin 
as  a  great  connected  principle  ;  One ;  a  .single  world- 
spirit — exactly  as  the  electricity  with  which  the  uni- 
verse is  charged  is  indivisible,  imponderable,  one,  so 
that  you  cannot  separate  it  from  the  great  ocean  of  fluid. 
The  electric  spark  that  slumbers  in  the  dewdrop  is 
part  of  the  flood  which  struck  the  oak.  Had  that  spark 
not  been  there,  it  could  be  demonstrated  that:  the 
whole  previous  constitution  of  the  universe  might  have 
been  different,  and  the  oak  not  have  been  struck.  .  .  . 

"  To  conclude.  Estimate  rightly  the  death  of  Christ. 
It  was  not  simply  the  world's  example — it  was  the 
world's  Sacrifice.  He  died  not  merely  as  a  martyr  to 
the  truth.  His  death  is  the  world's  life.  Ask  ye 
what  life  is  ?  Life  is  not  exemption  from  penalty. 
Salvation  is  not  escape  from  suffering  and  punish- 
ment. The  Redeemer  suffered  punishment  ;  but  the 
Redeemer's  soul  had  blessedness  in  the  very  midst  of 
punishment.  Life  is  elevation  of  soul — nobleness — 
divine  character.  The  spirit  of  Caiaphas  was  death  : 
to  receive  all,  and  give  nothing  :  to  sacrifice  others  to 
himself.  The  spirit  of  God  was  life  :  to  give  and  not 
receive :  to  be  sacrificed  and  not  to  sacrifice.     Hear 


VERNY  AND  ROBERTSON,  387 

Him  again  :  '  He  that  loseth  his  life,  the  same  shall 
find  it.'  That  is  life:  the  spirit  of  losing  all  for  love's 
sake.  That  is  the  soul's  life,  which  alone  is  blessed- 
ness and  heaven.  By  realising  that  ideal  of  humanity, 
Christ  furnished  the  life  which  we  appropriate  to  our- 
selves only  when  we  enter  into  His  spirit. 

"  Listen  !  Only  by  renouncing  sin  is  His  death  to 
sin  yours — only  by  quitting  it  are  you  free  from  the 
guilt  of  His  blood — only  by  voluntary  acceptance  of 
the  law  of  the  cross,  self-surrender  to  the  will  of  God, 
and  self-devotion  to  the  good  of  others  as  the  law 
of  your  being,  do  you  enter  into  that  present  and 
future  heaven,  which  is  the  purchase  of  His  vicarious 
sacrifice."  l 

Robertson  is  admirable  in  his  attacks  upon  the 
hard,  judicial  theory  of  the  atonement  ;  but  his 
exposition  of  his  own  system  gives  a  very  inade- 
quate view  of  the  work  of  redemption.  From  this  it 
would  appear  that  Christ  saves  us  simply  by  realising 
in  His  own  person  the  ideal  of  humanity,  and  by  the 
holy  constraining  influence  of  His  love  upon  the 
heart.  I  find  no  place  in  such  a  system  for  re- 
demption, properly  so  called — for  that  agonising 
travail  of  soul,  in  which  Christ  bore  upon  His  heart 
the  sin  of  the  world.  His  obedience  is  not  sufficiently 
represented  as  a  reparation  of  the  revolt  of  the  first 
Adam. 

Robertson  rightly  repudiated  the  horrible  idea  of 

1  "Caiaphas'  View  of  Vicarious  Sacrifice."  Sermons,  First  Series. 


388  CONTEMPORA  R  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

the  direct  curse  of  the  Father  resting  upon  the  Son, 
but  passes  over  in  silence  the  mysterious  desertion, 
the  anguish  of  soul  which  the  Master  endured,  and  in 
which  He  realised  through  his  perfect  sympathy  with 
us,  all  the  bitterness  of  our  sin,  and  recognised  God's 
righteous  anger  against  it.  Robertson  represents  the 
work  of  Christ  as  the  initiation  of  a  course  of  repara- 
tive effort  rather  than  as  the  one  unique  work  which  it  is 
ours  simply  to  assimilate  by  a  living  faith.  That  such 
was  really  his  view  appears  from  another  sermon  on 
the  same  subject,  in  which  the  principal  virtue  of  the 
cross  is  made  to  be  that  it  sets  before  us  an  ideal  of 
perfection,  and  fills  us  with  an  ardent  desire  to  be  con- 
formed to  it.  Using  a  beautiful  figure,  he  compares 
fallen  man  brought  into  contemplation  of  the  sublime 
sacrifice  of  the  cross,  to  Correggio  standing  before  a 
canvas  of  Raphael's  and  exclaiming,  "  And  I,  too,  am 
a  painter  !  "  This  is  one  aspect  of  the  truth  ;  but  we 
must  not  forget  that  while  thus  re-creating  in  the  soul 
the  divine  ideal,  the  cross  at  the  same  time  recalls  to 
us  the  depth  of  our  spiritual  degradation,  the  impo- 
tence of  our  own  efforts  after  goodness,  and  awakens 
the  yearning  for  pardon  and  deliverance.  But  for 
this  hope  which  it  holds  out,  it  would  only  aggravate 
our  misery  by  setting  before  us  an  ideal  for  ever  un- 
attainable, and  revealing  to  us  with  pitiless  clearness 
the  moral  depths  to  which  we  have  fallen. 

Eloquent   as    Robertson    is    in   the   description  of 
human   suffering,  he  does  not  sufficiently  recognise 


VERNY  AND  ROBERTSON.  389 

the  infirmity  and  hopeless  weakness  of  fallen  man. 
Hence,  while  he  rightly  rejects  that  notion  of  prayer 
which  regards  it  as  a  purely  external  and  magical 
influence,  a  sort  of  Aladdin's  lamp,  capable  of  pro- 
curing for  us  whatever  we  desire,  he  too  much  dis- 
regards its  character  as  a  positive  making  request  to 
God.  His  sermon  on  the  prayer  in  Gethsemane 
contains  many  great  and  helpful  thoughts  on  the 
necessity  of  bringing  our  mind  into  harmony  with  the 
mind  of  God,  and  submitting  our  will  to  His.  But 
even  this  is  a  grace  which  we  need  to  obtain,  like  every 
other.  Prayer  has  an  effect  not  only  upon  ourselves, 
but  upon  God.  It  is  an  active  power.  The  cry  of 
the  poor  beggar  craving  help  from  Christ  is  not  an 
illusion.  In  order  to  receive,  we  must  ask  ;  for 
asking  is  at  once  the  acknowledgment  of  our  own 
emptiness  and  of  the  fulness  of  God.  In  relation  to 
this  subject,  as  to  all  others,  there  is  a  very  valuable 
element  of  freshness  and  suggestiveness  in  Robertson, 
which  only  needs  to  be  supplemented.  All  that  he 
has  written  or  said  on  justification  by  faith  contains 
important  truth.  We  have  seen,  in  his  sermon  on 
Caiaphas,  how  he  protests  against  such  a  notion  of 
salvation  as  would  imply  that  Christ  had  died  for  us, 
to  save  us  from  the  necessity  of  crucifying  ourselves. 
Like  Vinet,  he  maintains  the  closest  connection 
between  sanctification  and  justification.  God  sees 
the  development  of  the  germ  in  the  germ  itself,  as 
he  sees  the  great  river  Thames,  which  bears  on   its 


/ 


39Q  CONTEMPORAR  Y  POR TRAITS. 

bosom  the  mighty  ships  of  the  Atlantic  and  Indian 
Oceans,  in  the  tiny  scarcely  perceptible  rivulet  from 
which  it  springs. 

Robertson's  attention  was  more  deeply  fixed  upon 
the  person  than  upon  the  work  of  Christ.  No  dis- 
ciple ever  loved  the  Master  with  a  more  fervent  love ; 
his  language  rises  into  poetry  at  the  very  mention  of 
His  name.  He  lives  by  His  life ;  he  is  never  weary 
of  meditating  on  His  perfections  ;  he  truly  worships 
Him.  He  has  therefore  nothing  in  common  with  the 
Unitarian  school.  All  his  thoughts  and  feelings  he 
refers  to  Ghrist  ;  through  Him  he  seeks  constant 
access  to  the  Father.  Christ  is  the  centre  of  his 
religious  life.  On  every  page  of  his  writings  we  find 
expressions  which  implicitly  recognise  the  unique 
relation  existing  between  the  Son  and  the  Father, 
and  the  eternal  divinity  of  Jesus  Christ.  It  is  upon 
His  humanity,  however,  that  he  dwells  most  fully. 
This  is  to  him  no  fiction,  but  a  grand  reality.  He 
holds  that  Christ  passed  through  the  moral  conflict 
without  even  the  shadow  of  sin  resting  upon  Him  ; 
but  He  does  not  admit  that  He  possessed  any 
peculiar  inherent  virtue,  which  rendered  him  unas- 
sailable by  the  same  temptations  to  which  we  are 
exposed.  Robertson  expressed  with  characteristic 
vigour  the  legitimate  necessity  felt  by  the  theology 
of  the  day,  to  escape  from  the  metaphysical  docetism 
which  substituted  a  rigid  Byzantine  Christ  for  the 
living  Son  of  Man.     His  sermon  on  the  childhood  of 


VERXY  AND  R  OBER  TSO.V.  39 1 

Christ,  on  His  loneliness  and  His  sympathy,  bring  out 
this  aspect  of  truth  with  peculiar  beauty.  We  may 
quote,  as  expressing  his  deepest  and  most  sacred 
convictions,  part  of  a  letter  to  a  friend  on  this  subject. 
He  says  : 

"  Unquestionably,  the  belief  in  the  divinity  of 
Christ  is  waning  among  us.  They  who  hold  it  have 
petrified  it  into  a  theological  dogma  without  life  or 
warmth,  and  thoughtful  men  are  more  and  more 
beginning  to  put  it  aside.  How  are  we  then  to  get 
back  this  belief  in  the  Son  of  God  ?  By  authority,  or 
by  the  old  way  of  persecution  ?  The  time  for  these 
has  passed.  The  other  way  is  to  begin  at  the  begin- 
ning. Begin  as  the  Bible  begins,  with  Christ  the  Son 
of  Man.  Begin  with  Him  as  God's  character  revealed 
under  the  limitations  of  humanity.  Lay  the  founda- 
tions of  a  higher  faith  deeply  in  the  belief  of  His 
humanity.  See  Him  as  He  was.  Breathe  His  Spirit. 
After  that,  try  to  comprehend  His  life.  Enter  into 
His  childhood.  Feel  with  Him  when  He  looked 
round  about  Him  in  anger  ;  when  He  vindicated  the 
crushed  woman  from  the  powerless  venom  of  her 
ferocious  accusers  ;  when  He  stood  alone  in  the 
solitary  majesty  of  truth  in  Pilate's  judgment-hall  ; 
when  the  light  of  the  Roman  soldiers'  torches  flashed 
on  Kedron  in  the  dark  night,  and  He  knew  that 
watching  was  too  late  ;  when  His  heart-strings  gave 
way  upon  the  cross.  Walk  with  Him  through  the 
marriage-feast.     See  how  the   sick    and  weary  came 


392  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

to  Him  instinctively  ;  how  men,  when  they  saw  Him, 
felt  their  sin,  they  knew  not  why,  and  fell  at  His  feet ; 
how  guilt  unconsciously  revealed  itself,  and  all  that 
was  good  in  men  was  drawn  out,  and  they  became 
higher  than  themselves  in  His  presence.  Realise  this. 
Live  with  Him  until  He  becomes  a  living  thought — 
ever  present — and  you  will  find  a  reverence  growing 
up  which  compares  with  nothing  else  in  human  feel- 
ing. You  will  feel  that  a  slighting  word  spoken  of 
Him  wounds  with  a  dart  more  sharp  than  personal 
insult.  You  will  feel  that  to  bow  at  the  name  of 
Jesus  is  no  form  at  will  of  others,  but  a  relief  and 
welcome.  And  if  it  should  ever  chance  that,  finding 
yourself  thrown  upon  your  own  self,  and  cut  off  from 
sects — suspected,  in  quest  of  a  truth  which  no  man 
gives — then  that  wondrous  sense  of  strength  and 
friendship  comes — the  being  alone  with  Christ,  with 
the  strength  of  a  manlier  independence.  Slowly, 
then,  this  almost  insensibly  merges  into  adoration. 
Now  what  is  it  to  adore  Christ  ?  To  call  Him  God  ? 
to  say,  Lord,  Lord  ?  No.  Adoration  is  the  mightiest 
love  the  soul  can  give — call  it  by  what  name  you  will. 
Many  a  Unitarian,  as  Channing,  has  adored,  calling  it 
only  admiration  ;  and  many  an  orthodox  Christian, 
calling  Christ  God  with  most  accurate  theology,  has 
given  Him  only  a  cool  intellectual  homage."  ■ 

Much   exception   was  taken  to  Robertson's  warm 
admiration  for  Channing.     But  the  extract  just  given 

1  "Life  and  Letters,"  vol.  ii.  pp.  170,  171. 


VERNY  AND  ROBERTSON. 


393 


shows  that  he  knew  how  to  distinguish  between  Chan- 
ning's  feelings  as  a  man,  and  the  opinions  of  his  party. 

In  Robertson's  conception  of  the  incarnation,  the 
dogma  of  the  two  natures  was  altogether  dropped. 
He  believed  firmly  that  it  was  possible  for  the  human 
to  become  divine ;  or,  rather,  he  recognised  the 
divine  in  the  primeval  idea  of  humanity,  which  finds 
its  eternal  realisation  in  Christ. 

In  his  sermon  on  the  Trinity  he  fully  develops 
these  views,  which  are  shared,  as  we  know,  by  an 
important  section  of  contemporary  theologians,  and 
which,  if  we  except  their  tendency  to  exaggeration, 
can  claim  in  their  support  the  teaching  of  the  second 
and  third  centuries.  We  would  not  venture  to  say 
that  Robertson  did  not  approach  too  daringly  the 
mysteries  of  the  Divine  Being,  when  he  said  that 
before  the  world  was  there  already  existed  in  the 
mind  of  God  that  which  we  may  call  the  humanity  of 
Deity,  that  which  the  scripture  calls  the  Word, 
the  Son,  the  express  image  of  the  Father.  In  his 
sermon  on  the  Trinity  we  read :  "  The  Unitarian 
maintains  a  divine  humanity  —  a  blessed,  blessed 
truth.  There  is  a  truth  more  blessed  still  —  the 
humanity  of  Deity.  Before  the  world  was,  there  was 
that  in  the  mind  of  God  which  we  may  call  the 
humanity  of  His  divinity.  It  is  called  in  scripture 
the  Word  ;  the  Son  ;  the  Form  of  God.  It  is  in 
virtue  of  this  that  we  have  a  right  to  attribute  to 
Him  our  own  feelings  ;  it  is  in   virtue  of  this   that 


394  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

scripture  speaks  of  His  wisdom,  His  justice,  His 
love.  It  is  through  this  humanity  in  the  mind  of 
God,  if  I  may  dare  so  to  speak  of  Deity,  that  a 
revelation  became  possible  to  man.  It  was  the 
Word  that  was  made  flesh  ;  it  was  the  Word  that 
manifested  itself  to  man.  It  is  in  virtue  of  the  con  • 
nection  between  God  and  man  that  God  made  man 
in  His  own  image  ;  that  through  a  long  line  of  prophets 
the  human  truth  of  God  could  be  made  known  to 
man,  till  it  came  forth  developed  most  entirely  and 
at  large  in  the  incarnation  of  the  Redeemer."  J 

Robertson  seems  to  have  anticipated  the  ideas 
worked  out  by  Beyschlag  in  his  paper  before  the 
Kirchentag  of  Altenburg,  which  gave  rise  to  so  much 
stormy  discussion.  It  must  be  admitted,  however, 
that  he  never  called  in  question,  as  did  the  German 
theologian,  the  eternal  pre-existence  of  the  Word. 
It  is  true  that  he  speaks  of  the  obscurity  of  the 
doctrine  of  the  Trinity,  and  of  the  impossibility  of 
attaching  an  exact  and  definite  meaning  to  our 
common  language,  when  it  is  used  in  relation  to  those 
unfathomable  depths,  which  we  cannot  comprehend 
within  our  narrow  formulas.  We  may  well  say  in 
relation  to  subjects  like  these,  as  the  apostle  said,  "We 
see  through  a  glass  darkly."  Robertson  gave  ex- 
aggerated expression  to  his  real  belief  when,  in  the 
Sermon    on    Absolution,  he   said   that   man  has  the 

1  "  Sermon  on  the  Trinity."     Third  Series,  p.  56. 


VERNY  AND  ROBERTSON.  395 

power  as  man  to  forgive  sins,  because  he  is  the 
representative  of  God,  and  because  of  the  essential 
harmony  existing  between  the  human  and  the  divine 
nature.  This  is  unquestionably  an  exaggeration 
amounting  to  error.  It  is  the  Father  who  has  been 
offended  by  the  prodigal  son  ;  and  in  this  sense  the 
Pharisees  were  right  when  they  said,  "  Who  can  forgive 
sins  but  God  only  ?"  Their  error  lay  in  their  failing 
to  recognise  in  Christ  the  true  representative  of  God. 

Here,  again,  we  notice  the  same  deficiency  to  which 
we  have  already  referred  in  Robertson's  teaching. 
The  idea  of  moral  perfection  throws  into  the  back- 
ground the  idea  of  pardon.  The  religion  he  presents 
to  us  is  rather  that  of  a  realised  ideal  than  that  of 
redemption  and  restoration. 

Such  a  doctrine  does  not  meet  the  conditions  of 
our  weakness  ;  it  is  too  high  for  us  ;  we  cannot  attain 
to  it.  The  love  of  God  has  stooped  lower  than 
Robertson  thought.  Robertson  treats  us  as  strong 
men  ;  God  knows  that  we  are  but  feeble  children.  It 
is  well  to  have  a  strong  and  rapid  steed  to  bear  us 
over  the  rough  places  on  the  way,  but  first  of  all  the 
poor  traveller,  sick  and  sore  wounded,  needs  some  one 
to  stoop  and  lift  him  up  and  to  bind  up  his  wounds 
like  the  good  Samaritan. 

It  will  not,  I  hope,  appear  hypercritical,  if  I  still 
further  take  exception  to  Robertson's  too  persistent 
avoidance  of  all  beaten  tracks.  There  are  sacred 
resting-places  for  the  Christian  soul  which  ought  not 


396  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

to  be  neglected  ;  there  are  rudiments  of  the  faith 
which  cannot  with  impunity  be  passed  over  in  silence, 
however  familiar  they  may  be  supposed  to  be. 
Robertson  constantly  contents  himself  with  alluding 
to  the  fundamental  points  of  Christian  teaching 
without  expounding  them.  This  is  a  mistake.  At  other 
times  he  falls  into  the  error  of  a  too  minute  and 
subtle  analysis.  But  with  these  exceptions,  we  know 
no  writer  more  genial,  none  more  nervous,  none 
whose  words  are  more  stimulating  to  thought  and 
reflection.  He  had  a  fertile  and  graceful  imagination. 
His  illustrations  are  original,  and  altogether  free  from 
conventionality.  We  never  find  in  his  pages  that 
profusion  of  familiar  metaphors — flowers,  stars,  storms, 
cataracts — which  are  the  hackneyed  properties  of  a 
meretricious  rhetoric.  Anglo  -  Saxon  imagery,  from 
the  time  of  Shakspeare,  has  been  distinguished  by 
a  vigorous  realism,  clear  in  colour,  firm  in  outline. 
Few  writers  have  understood  its  use  better  than 
Robertson.  His  delivery  did  full  justice  to  his  elo- 
quence. He  gave  free  expression  to  the  results  of  his 
profound  and  careful  study.  His  striking  face, 
resonant  voice,  restrained  but  vigorous  action,  and 
above  all,  that  strong  tension  of  his  whole  being  which 
made  every  word  instinct  with  his  own  deepest  life — 
all  this  tended  to  produce  an  ineffaceable  impression 
upon  his  hearers.  But  in  such  spending  the  life  soon 
exhausts  itself,  especially  when  the  soul  of  the 
preacher  is  all  the  while  the  scene  of  a  long  wrestling 


VERNY  AND  ROBERTSON.  397 

like  Jacob's,  from  which  he  comes  forth  again  and 
again  wounded  though  victorious. 

Beside  the  volumes  of  sermons,  Robertson  has  left 
behind  a  series  of  expositions  of  the  epistles  to  the 
Corinthians,  a  reminiscence  of  those  consecutive 
studies  of  various  portions  of  Scripture  which  he 
was  accustomed  to  give  in  his  Sunday  afternoon 
service.  This  mode  of  teaching  seems  to  us  peculiarly 
admirable,  giving  as  it  does  a  full  and  comprehensive 
view  of  the  real  intention  of  the  sacred  writers,  instead 
of  breaking  up  passages  of  scripture  into  disjointed 
fragments,  of  which  the  preacher  may  be  often  tempted 
to  make  a  fanciful  and  unreal  application. 

We  observe  in  this  volume  on  the  Corinthians  the 
same  defects  and  the  same  merits  as  in  the  other 
sermons.  The  form  in  which  the  truth  is  presented 
is  in  this  case  more  simple,  though  always  original 
and  suggestive.  His  meditations  on  the  resurrection 
are  of  peculiar  depth  and  beauty. 

Robertson's  physical  strength  began  to  decline 
rapidly  in  the  summer  of  1853.  He  suffered  from  an 
irritation  of  the  brain  which  produced  terrible  exhaus- 
tion. Rest  seemed  for  the  time  to  restore  him,  but 
the  respite  was  very  short.  It  was  found  necessary 
for  him  to  have  a  curate ;  the  candidate  whom 
Robertson  preferred  was  refused  to  him  by  his 
ecclesiastical  superior,  on  the  ground  of  unfounded 
charges  against  him.  Robertson  was  fully  determined 
not  to  accept  any  other,  for  he  felt  that  in  doing  so  he 


398  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

should  seem  to  lend  credence  to  the  calumnies 
unjustly  circulated  against  a  good  man. 

This  controversy,  in  which  Robertson  showed  the 
rare  nobility  of  his  character,  was  not  terminated  at 
the  time  of  his  death,  and  no  doubt  hastened  his  end 
by  deferring  the  help  he  absolutely  needed,  and  thus 
aggravating  his  bodily  suffering  by  mental  distress. 
He  died  August  15th,  1853.  His  last  words  were, 
"  Let  me  rest.     I  must  die.     Let  God  do  His  work." 

He  was  followed  to  the  grave  by  the  deep  regrets 
of  His  church,  especially  of  the  younger  portion, 
whose  hearts  he  had  completely  gained,  and  of  the 
poor,  to  whom  he  had  ever  been  a  faithful  friend. 
Robertson  left  behind  him  an  unsullied  memory,  and 
an  influence  which  has  been  increasing  year  by  year, 
as  his  published  sermons  have  won  their  way  in  all 
the  thoughtful  Christian  homes  of  England. 

CONCLUSION. 

We  have  seen  in  the  case  of  both  Verny  and 
Robertson,  how  deep  and  severe  the  mental  conflict 
may  be  in  our  day,  even  in  the  case  of  those  who  hold 
fast  their  faith  in  Christ.  The  severity  of  the  struggle 
has  in  no  way  abated  in  the  years  that  have  elapsed 
since  their  death.  Both  in  England  and  France  souls 
are  deeply  agitated  by  religious  questions,  as  is  mani- 
fest from  the  reaction  in  the  direction  of  Catholicism, 
and  from   the   development  of  that   lofty   Christian 


VERNY  AND  ROBERTSON.  399 

stoicism,  of  which  "  Ecce  Homo  "  is  at  once  the  noblest 
and  most  brilliant  expression. 

It  would  be  childish  to  shut  our  eyes  to  the  fact 
that  that  which  constitutes  the  danger  of  these 
theories,  which  are  acquiring  such  an  ascendancy  in 
our  day,  is  the  inadequacy  of  the  orthodox  creeds. 
We  draw  from  this  only  one  conclusion — that  it  is 
essential  that  we  should  press  forward,  in  the  fullest 
exercise  of  faith  and  of  freedom,  the  development  of 
our  theology.  It  is  not  for  us  to  slumber  calmly 
while  the  problems  of  the  age  are  placed  before  us  for 
solution.  All  those  who  have  obtained  for  themselves 
the  answer  to  the  question,  "  What  must  I  do  to  be 
saved  ? "  all  who  are  living  by  the  life  of  Christ,  have 
found  for  themselves  a  sure  abiding  place.  But  they 
are  not  to  fall  asleep  in  it  ;  rather  are  they  bound  to 
unite  their  efforts  to  give  satisfaction  to  the  spiritual 
needs  of  other  souls,  and  primarily  to  the  legitimate 
aspiration  after  a  closer  union  of  the  religious  with 
the  moral  element.  In  this  way  they  will  be  saved 
from  falling  into  exaggerations,  which  are  the  sure 
indication  of  some  spiritual  unsoundness. 

We  believe  firmly  in  a  Church  of  the  future,  which, 
unlike  ancient  Rome,  shall  gather  into  itself  the  good 
elements  of  all  existing  Churches,  which  shall  give  us 
in  worship  true  adoration  without  the  forms  of 
idolatry,  and  in  doctrine  moral  vigour  and  definite- 
ness  of  teaching  without  an  arid  dogmatism. 

Upon  this  lofty  height  will  meet  the  pilgrims  who 


400  CONTEMPORAR  Y  FOR  TRAITS. 

have  climbed  the  hill  by  many  paths.  And  still  behind 
this  summit  there  will  rise  another,  and  again  another 
and  another  loftier  still,  till  we  shall  have  reached 
the  mountains  radiant  with  the  eternal  sunlight  of 
perfect  love,  on  which  we  shall  know  as  we  are  known. 
So  the  search  after  fuller  truth,  with  all  the  diversi- 
ties that  it  brings  with  it,  must  recommence  after 
each  great  fusion  of  thought  and  feeling  wrought 
under  some  mighty  impetus  in  the  religious  life. 
This  is  the  law  of  history,  and  we  freely  accept  it ;  for 
after  all,  what  we  seek  is  only  to  arrive  at  a  fuller 
knowledge  of  ourselves,  and  a  fuller  apprehension  of 
the  truth  we  have  already  grasped.  He  who  has 
Christ  has  in  Him  all  things.  Let  us  not  misin- 
terpret the  struggles  and  turmoils  of  these  periods  of 
transition.  I  can  think  of  no  more  fitting  conclusion 
to  these  studies  of  earnest  lives  than  words  used  by  the 
noble  Lebre,  whose  death  drew  such  an  eloquent  tribute 
from  the  heart  of  Verny.  It  is  a  quarter  of  a  century 
since  he  wrote  the  words,  and  yet  they  are  more 
appropriate  to-day  than  ever:  "Those  in  whose  souls 
the  great  travail  of  the  future  is  being  carried  on 
ought  to  seek  solitude  as  did  the  ancient  prophets, 
but  like  them,  also,  they  ought  to  fill  the  solitude  with 
their  prayers,  and  to  walk  with  bowed  souls  before 
God.  It  is  theirs  with  deep  humility  and  holy  fervour 
to  seek  the  help  of  God  for  themselves  and  for  the 
whole  world." 


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